My Kind
by Galacticlone
Summary: Pain. Purple can't take the pain. He has to get away. When he convinces Red to follow him to Irk for time away from the Massive, a violent rebellion rears its head. Treaties are broken and the planet Vort becomes shrouded in intergalactic threats of war and independence. But how far up into the Empire does this nasty rebellion really go? (Slow burn/RAPR)
1. I Can't Do This

Hello my lovelies! I haven't written any fanfiction since I was in high school and, even though I like to believe that I'm a functioning adult, I still wanted to write this one because it's been in the back of my mind for a while. I've altered the idea slightly to fit the timeline, so I hope you enjoy the trash that I've come up with. Thanks!

**Chapter rated M for mild violence and brief heavy language. Here we go fam. Be prepared.**

* * *

It started with the Florpus. Never before had there been so much sensory overload, deafening roars resounding over the bridge of the Massive as the hull was split by debris and tossed about like a ragdoll in a swirling mist of cosmic dust. Strobing colors streaked across the sky and blinded everyone aboard, frying electrical equipment and searing sensitive retinas to forced, agonizing vision loss. Some cowered in terror while others doubled over and got physically sick from overstimulation, desperate to keep their footing as the ship groaned and shuddered under the pressure and hot friction outside. There was screaming, so much screaming, and a collective jumble of rapid-fire questions mixing in with the unsettling sounds of metal caving in on itself and screeching alarm bells. Purple had been frozen in place on the bridge, completely transfixed and awed by the disturbing, violent display of swirling worlds reduced to dust by collision after collision with one another. He'd never seen anything like it. The sheer force, the savagery, the liminality of it all broke him, but still he couldn't tear away his wide eyed gaze. Red's warlike instincts had kicked in and he had thrown himself down to the control panel, shoving terrified pilots to the ground and forcefully taking the controls to manually guide the ship through wherever they were careening towards. Where were they going? Where would this appalling, gruesome thing spit them out? What if they…_never_ got there? Purple could remember unbearable waves of searing heat cascading over the ship, obliterating the external cooling units and bouncing through the ducts to blast over his crew. Everything became muffled and dull as he staggered back, flailing and losing his balance as he grabbed furiously for purchase but found none. He could remember his claws scraping on the burning metal of the floor as he pushed himself up and blinked rapidly, an unnatural, horrific feeling overcoming him and the rest of the crew. A distressing unstable headrush; intense, disjointed, and disorientating. An unseen force tugged and stretched every bone and organ in his body beyond his limits, gravity ebbing and flowing at irregular intervals. He remembered feeling nauseous, fearing that he might break at the unyielding pressure in his head that he couldn't seem to shake. Red yelled something over the deafening chaos that Purple couldn't make out and, before he could call back, the frightening, unsettling reality jumps began. Bodies wrenched and conjoined as they twisted together, voices became monstrous garbles of aggressively spewed syllables and strangled cries, color receded then flooded back in dizzying succession. Purple panicked, his vision fading with his rapid pulse as he watched his long-time friend and co-leader take on hundreds of barely recognizable, demented forms in an instant, everything he knew shattering before him and contorting into a nightmare.

_Red._

He had to get to him.

_Please…Fuck….P-please!_

Somehow, Purple had managed to force a sharp inhale and squeeze his eyes shut through is panic. His jaw locked, biting down painfully on his tongue as another wave of heavy gravity forced him down with invisible hands and squeezed the air from his lungs. He coughed violently when it let up and somehow rolled off of the bridge with a hard thump, forcing his way to his feet and nearly losing himself again as the ship lurched forward.

_Please…Red!_

The texture of the air pricked and sliced at his skin as the atmosphere flitted between thousands of mind-bending realms, each more terrifying than the last, the sheer force of standing popping each of his joints. Overwhelming darkness and strobing illumination, clinking mechanical screeching and razor-sharp claws turned to steel, gelatinous bodies and oozing colorless souls, organs melting and leaking to the floor out of translucent forms. They were going to die. He was going to die…Red was going to die.

_You can't die_. _I won't let you die, Red. I-I won't!_

One by one, tiny Irken bodies began to collapse from the molecular stress, bones crunching and spines snapping cleanly at the base. Knees failed and buckled, agonizing screams faltered and waved through the heavy atmosphere. They were all going to die and no one would ever find them, dammed souls cursed to wander the cold, desolate regions of space for the rest of their existence if they weren't torn to shreds. Everything the Empire had worked towards would be destroyed and crumble overnight, and a new leader would step up, the image of Red and Purple's wide grins and powerful words fading into neglected background noise. No, forget the damn Empire! There would always be someone else. Purple fought to keep his wavering attention on Red when his vision lapsed again, watching in horror as he strained to keep the ship level against his mind-numbing pain, an anchor in the disorder and carnage folding in around them. The Empire hadn't mattered in the moment. Red mattered. The strange, horrendously intimate feelings for Red boiling up in Purple's heaving chest mattered. A sharp impact launched the crew from where they stood on precarious toes, tossing rigid bodies around like trash and slamming a group of navigators and technicians into the far viewing port with a collective cry of agony. Red yelled when he was hurled over the console and Purple was thrown back several feet, frantically grasping for anything but coming up short as his PAK collided hard with the floor. There was a blinding spark and the telltale hiss of hot plasma, the smell invading Purple's antennae and forcing him to wheeze through the fumes. Then there was ignition. Flames shot rapidly through the bridge, consuming everything they touched and licking menacingly at the coattails of a petrified Elite trainee nearby as he screamed. Purple scrambled back with wide, terrified eyes when the flames threatened the soles of his boots, the heat wrapping and curling its sinister sharp-toothed jaws up around his ankles and threatening to bite. Then, everything changed again as a rogue asteroid careened into the main viewing port, cracking the thick reinforced glass as Purple stared up in horror. Another powerful wave of burdensome gravity smashed into them, shattering what remained of the window, smothering the flames and replacing them with piercing debris and skin-melting gasses. Any remaining traces of breathable atmosphere was forcibly sucked out as the crew grasped and clawed at their throats and chests, desperate for the torture to end. Purple felt like he was choking on nothing, bitter gases stinging at his eyes and tongue as he gasped for breath to no avail.

_Red! Don't leave me!_

Adrenaline pounded through his veins as his friend's name rang through his mind, driving him forward and forcing an intense strength upon him he never knew he was capable of. He flew down and grabbed Red by the wrist before pulling him back to his unstable feet, half dragging and throwing him up the stairs to the hatch leading into the depths of the Massive's lower decks. Red fought for consciousness and clawed at Purple's arms in a frenzied panic, slumping forward when he felt himself nearing a dangerous edge, deprived of the hydrogen he desperately needed to survive. Purple pushed him through the hatch with a hard shove and used his last bit of dwindling strength to manually pull the fortified door shut, hearing it seal the dwindling, dying crew behind them with a thick pop. He squeezed his eyes shut and gasped in the renewed, sweet atmosphere, slumping feebly against the hatch and sliding to the floor as the sound of frantic scraping fingers banged on the door from the other side, pained screams and weak cries of agony slowly fading as each and every life came to an excruciating end. Red came to and shook himself alert against he floor, shakily pushing up and throwing himself down next to Purple, who clutched at his face and tried to hum away the anguish. He could remember his body failing him when he gave up, their forms relentlessly contorting and shifting into painful, monstrous shapes that couldn't be stopped. Neither could shape words as the lights flickered and buzzed overhead, but clung to one another out of sheer terror like lost smeets, frantic to hold onto the last bit of sanity they both had in this terrible daydream. The memory was vague and blurred from that point on, but Purple could remember Red finally finding his voice. When he did, the resounding power and logical stability that was usually there had been stripped away and reduced to nothing, replaced by something Purple had never heard before that scared him.

"They always say a captain should go down with his ship…I just didn't think it would ever have to be us, Pur…"

Hearing Red resign to his fate and the universe around them was more painful than anything the Florpus could have done. The mighty, unbreakable Irken he had once known was crushed, pulverized and thrown to the same cruel grip of death that everyone had to shake hands with someday. They were going to die, and they both knew there was nothing more they could do to pull themselves from their doomed fates. Purple couldn't respond, any eloquence he had left leaving him mute and pathetically shaky against Red's shoulder. Two star-crossed captains going down with their condemned ship, huh? Why did it have to be this way? What had they done to deserve this fate? Purple thought back to all of the memories he shared with Red, to the ruthless expansion of their powerful Empire and the incredible infrastructure they had raised from the ground. Funny…it had all been for nothing. There would be no more hushed late night talks, no more mundane paperwork, no more stupid jokes for them to share. All Purple could do was turn and give in, burying his face into Red's neck and squeezing him tightly in his shivering arms as a freezing blast careened through the long corridor, feeling Red embrace him in return. He had always felt safe in these strong arms, so why did he feel so helpless now? Purple wished they had more time. Even if it was a meager few minutes more in Red's soft grip, he would trade anything for it. There was so much that he wanted to say that he never could. So much he didn't understand about himself and never got to experience. There were so many things he still wanted to do with Red that he had planned out over and over in his mind, but they were slipping through his fingers like sand in a savage hourglass. Purple buried his face further into the crook of Red's neck, desperate to be closer and still not quite close enough. This was it. The last time he could be in his presence. The last time he could hug him, the last time he could feel him under his gloves. It wasn't fair. He choked on a sob as hot tears streamed down his cheeks and pooled on Red's shoulder plate, running in tiny streams down his chest.

_How can I lose you if I was never allowed to have you?!_

Red would never know how Purple felt or feel the beauty and warmth those feelings brought to his once dull life. He would disappear and never be known, never be loved by the one he loved the most. They gave a collective gasp as they felt the ship shudder once more and squeezed their eyes shut, ready to accept the inevitable, searing pain that was to follow. Pulses were erratic, voices stalled, jaws clenched. Red dug his claws into Purple's waist in anticipation for the agony, hearing his friend hold his breath. Another rickety shudder and high-pitched mechanical whine pierced sensitive antennae. The ship was failing; a once great effigy to the Irken Empire destroyed and reclaimed by the brutal nature of the cosmos. Armored panels could be heard ripping and peeling off outside, internal wiring sparked and shorted, the floor quaked and warped. The lights flickered again and Purple cried out in panic, curling further into Red's arms as he held fast, wishing the torture would end. He wasn't ready…dammit, he wasn't ready! But, all at once, something changed. The coarse winds outside hushed and slowed to a low howl and the alternating gravitational field settled, releasing its domineering grip on the ship and its terrified captives. There seemed to be a break, as if they had passed through the very eye of the storm and come out on the other side of the thunderous clouds, but it was hard to tell. Neither dared move, holding fast to each other's stiff bodies as they waited with bated breath.

Finally, the universe took pity on their battered souls. The Massive sputtered pitifully a few more times, gave a great heave, then…stopped. The unbearable reality jumps slowly faded and settled as the lights in the corridor finally gave out, leaving the two in pitch black bewilderment. As the pain and searing heat subsided, Purple felt his ocular implants switch on as he strained to see through the darkness, the silence overwhelming his senses and only alarming him more to the unknown outside. He shuddered in terrible anticipation, forcing his cheek against Red's as they waited for something, _anything_, to let them know they weren't dead.

"Rebooting power core." A broken mechanical voice echoed gloomily down the hallway, a welcome reprieve of familiarity in the mind-altering terror.

One by one each of the lights clicked back on, blinding the two terrified leaders where they sat slumped against the frigid hatch, whipped and drenched in each other's sweat. It…it was over? Had they exited the Florpus? Or were they dead? Purple still didn't dare breathe, frozen in time when he heard the ship begin running an automatic diagnostic to assess the terrible damage the deadly space anomaly had caused. He ran his hands up Red's shoulder blades, feeling the fear in him that he had secretly tried to bite back with little success. It really _was_ over.

_We…we made it._

This should have come as a relief, but the scarring damage was done. No amount of physical healing could undo the disturbing images burned into the back of Purple's mind. Fatalities. Gore. The intense sound of bones cracking and lungs caving. The best of their crew was gone, claimed by the universe and her cold, unfeeling motives, and they were now cast adrift to float aimlessly in the vast reaches of the cosmos. Where? Where were they? Did it even matter anymore?

_You…you made it._

Neither dared move, afraid of what would happen if they risked testing their footing against the crumpled metal of what was once the bay. Finally, Purple sluggishly peeled himself from Red but held his grip on his shoulders, leaning back and really scrutinizing him for the first time since the chaos had begun. He was shaken up and drained of color, a tiny trickle of bright pink blood leaking from the corner of his mouth from the internal stress of the tissue scrambling gravity jumps. He licked it away and exhaled out of shock, his body returning to its natural state…the Red that Purple knew. He cupped Red's face in his hands, turned him gingerly from side to side and frowning at the deep bruises drawing to the surface and mottling his skin. Despite being pretty banged up and torn apart, Red was alive and still breathing under his fingertips.

_You're…you're alive. Thank Irk you're actually alive!_

Red swallowed and mimicked Purple's hands with an almost lifeless stare, reaching up to slowly take his cheeks with uncertain palms. He had opened his mouth to say something, but snapped it shut when he couldn't find the words, trying to shake the strange ring of white noise from the tips of his antennae. Instead he brought their foreheads together and stared blankly at his lap, reaching up and moving one of Purple's clammy hands from his jaw to entwine their fingers. They were both sticky with sweat and it was awkward and uncomfortable, liquid fear oozing from the very depths of their psyches. After a few long moments, Purple pulled Red back into a tight hug as a fit of giddy, adrenaline fueled laughter washed over him in waves.

"We're going to be ok, Red! We're going to be ok! T-they'll come for us now!" He laughed anxiously, feeling his head spin at the very notion that they were somehow still alive. "The ship will send out a signal and they'll find us!"

Red managed a small smile at the sound of Purple's voice so close, comforting and familliar. "W-we're not dead?" He asked in small, obviously perturbed, voice.

He glanced up and tentatively looked over Purple, scrutinizing every cut and bruise across his soft skin and running a gentle thumb over a gash on his forearm, drawing back when his friend winced. Something clicked inside him, bringing him back to the moment and setting his crimson eyes alight with a sudden fire.

"_You're_ not dead?" He heaved a great sigh of relief and finally grinned, feeling tears prick at the corners of his eyes as he looked his beloved companion over again and again, as though scared he would fade away to dust if he turned away.

Purple felt a thick lump form in the back of his throat as he returned Red's smile, wiping his raw, irritated eyes on the back of his glove. "I'm not dead, Red!" He was cut off when another happy sob hit him, knocking him momentarily speechless. "I-I thought I lost you!"

Red leaned back in, folding in against his friend and squeezing his eyes shut to the glorious feeling of Purple against him. "L-lost me? You wish." He stuttered, trying to lighten the mood and restore their fractured stability. "I-I told you a long time ago that you're stuck with me, so don't get any ideas."

The two laughed and cried together for a long while in the pale light of the filthy corridor, hands smoothing over cheeks and shoulders and hoarse voices repeating the same useless phrases over and over to break the awful, lingering silence. Neither would have to rule and carry on without the other, and that was all that mattered.

* * *

The Massive had been chewed up and spat out on the far north side of the vast universe, millions of lightyears away from Irk and their original flightpath. A distress signal was sent out and it took a few days for the rescue crews to arrive and meander through the extensive minefield of debris and charred metal clouding the giant flagship. Unfortunately, when help finally came, the carnage was found to be more extensive than anyone would have imagined. Bodies and dried blood splattered the destroyed bridge and adjacent corridors, laying haphazardly about in morbid heaps. Rescue crews took what they could to perform autopsies on the unknown but disastrous effects the Florpus seemed to have on the body, but there weren't many suitable cadavers still hanging on in one piece. The individuals that could be salvaged were so badly mangled they were completely unrecognizable, limbs and digits stuck firm in the cold grip of rigor-mortis as they were whisked away to undergo PAK data retrievals and identifications. The Florpus had claimed thousands of lives aboard the ship and was a major blow to the Empire and its sects as a body count was racked up. 45 lost to navigation when they were suffocated on the lack of atmosphere in the bridge. 17 lost to the mechanics bay when the hull crushed in upon them. 82 lost in the science wing when the power core exploded, and radiation fried their PAKs. 1 lost to the Elite when he burned to death in the fire. The grisly numbers grew by the hour, sickening the retrieval crews to the point that multiple shifts had to be assigned to give everyone a decent break from the gruesome horror. All remaining survivors were moved to stable flight pods for transport back to Irk, while the Massive was towed to the nearest planet for safe repairs.

The Tallest were shell shocked, battered, and virtually starving to death when they had been found. Somehow, despite the terror and uncertainty of their survival, they were still breathing. Red had made it out with a few painfully bruised ribs and a cracked index finger he had probably sustained when he was thrown over the flight console in the bridge. He didn't have time to worry about his pains before, instinct driving him to search the ship for survivors and usher them into the mess hall for a head count. He had instructed bodies to be moved and sealed behind closed doors to keep the awful stench at bay and attempt to boost morale. Purple had snapped the tip of one of his antennae but didn't complain, pulling himself together and following Red's lead. He had formed a team to help take inventory of what little food wasn't destroyed in the blaze before passing it out accordingly to the terrified crew. Then, together with hundreds of beaten down Irkens of varying heights and ranks, they had slept on the grimy floor, cut off from the world and waiting out the lucid fear that droned on until their rescue and transfer to the safety of an Irken medical transport pod.

Red's whole body ached as he reclined against the warm, soft cushions a tiny medical drone had brought him, wishing he could sleep but the clamor of concerned Irkens around him made it thoroughly impossible to do anything but stare out the window and into the vast reaches of space. Purple sat adjacent to him, being tended and luxuriously fawned over by a small medical drone with a voice like honey and tiny, delicate hands. His broken antenna was causing him a lot of unnecessary grief, sending a consistent throbbing pain down the back of his neck, which he voiced quite loudly and to Red's displeasure. He rolled his eyes and watched Purple fidget uncomfortably as the medic poked and prodded him, running all the routine tests and bloodwork before having him turn so she could scrutinize his PAK. It had been so long since the two of them had been this chewed up and the older Red got, the deeper he felt it and the more resounding aches continued to bog him down. He had just turned 351 and had a bit of an edge on Purple's 347 cycles, his age not doing him any justice. Even with the advancements in PAK technology, there were still a few lingering twinges that would flare up from time to time from past war injuries, reminding him that he wasn't as young as he felt inside. The damn Florpus would just add to the list.

"Ow!" Purple yelled sharply at an unexpected rush of pain, smacking the drone's hands away on a furious impulse. "You said it wouldn't hurt!"

"I apologize, my Tallest!" She squeaked in alarm, reaching back out with shaky fingers to finish her work. "I-I had to set your antennae."

Purple glared down at her from above, irritated when he heard Red chuckle from behind them. He groaned and spun in his seat to face him, flashing him a fatigued, but still exasperated, look. "What's so funny?" He snapped, narrowing his eyes at his collegue.

Red snickered and pointed to Purple's sagging lopsided antennae, made heavy by the splint and drooping dangerously low in front of his face. He'd probably be half-deaf for a while until everything healed and set, and Red was already furiously plotting all the sneaky things he could say and do on his friend's bad side without him hearing. Purple, on the other hand, didn't seem amused in the slightest. He reached up with shaky fingers, brushing his sore antenna back only for it to fall forward once more. Red grinned, half expecting him to burst into laughter like he usually would at his own ridiculousness, but it never came. Instead, Purple scrunched up his face in a mixture of fury and humiliation, jabbing a harsh, authoritative finger at the door.

"Get. Out." He growled through menacing clenched teeth, watching as the drone froze and nearly collapsed beneath him at the terrifying, guttural sound.  
She glanced quickly at Red for help, who's smile had already begun to fade. What? Where did _that_ come from? The Purple he knew was dramatic, yeah, but this was over the top even for him.

"I said get out!" Purple jumped up with an unexpected barking order, stumbling a bit on his aching, unsteady feet. "Or are we going to have a problem, hm?"

The medic straightened her stout spine, her arm flying up wildly in salute as terror for her safety coursed through her veins. "Y-Yes, my Tallest! I-I mean, n-no, my Tallest! If you require any further assistance please call me, sir!" She peeped, scrambling to grab her tools and supplies and throwing them chaotically in her bag before practically sprinting to the door. She wildly punched in the exit code, throwing it open and dropping a role of gauze on her way out, carelessly leaving the hatch wide open for everyone to peer into.

There was a long moment of heavy silence as a few stray medical technicians poked their heads in out of curiosity, met with Purple's uncharacteristically furious glare before backing away nervously and resuming their duties. Purple stood stiff and rigid, arms crossed feverishly over his chest and refusing to sit back down, clicking his sharp nails incessantly against the cool metal of his gauntlets. Red swallowed thickly, staring at Purple's back and scared to say anything further when he noticed his good antennae twitch in aggravation. The atmosphere was suffocating and electric and Red quickly scanned the surrounding area for anything that Purple might get his hands on and throw in his direction should he press the issue, whatever that issue was, any further. As Red weighed his options over getting bombarded by pillows or finding out what was wrong, he noticed the color sensor in Purple's PAK had darkened severely against his stress and unknown anxiety. This wasn't like him at all, and Red didn't like it.

"Hey, Pur?" He began guardedly, afraid of the response. "You alright?" He winced and prepared for the first blow.

Nothing.

"It's just a splint. You look fine. Your PAK will have it fixed in a few hours."

Still silence.

"Pur-"

"Would you just close the door?" Purple's voice was barely a mumble as he sunk down, shoulder's slumping forward with a sigh of overwhelming defeat to something Red didn't understand. He gestured flippantly to the hatch the medical drone had thoughtlessly left open during her hurried escape. "Everyone's watching us and I'm not in the mood."

Red blinked and turned to the open panel, catching sight of a hushed group of medical drones and PAK technicians huddled together in the hallway, whispering furiously amongst themselves and eyeing Purple warily as they gossiped. He frowned and called out, throwing on a resolute, scolding tone.

"Hey! Shut your mouths and move on! Your Tallest want some privacy!"

There were a few terrified squeaks as Red pushed himself up followed by the clamor of heavy boots rushing down the corridor and out of sight. Geez, was everyone here a total idiot? Red winced at how sore he still was, his bones protesting at the sudden movement and his aching muscles begging him to sit back down and hibernate for cycles. His PAK gave a tiny warning beep when he twisted towards the door, his bruised ribs set alight and angry that he was even up at all. He was definitely still going to feel this in the morning. He made his way to the hatch and fiddled with the control panel on the wall for a moment, cursing under his breath when he couldn't remember the override code. He tried a few failed combinations before finally getting it right, the computer complying with his wishes as the door slammed shut with a powerful whoosh. Now to deal with the childish monster pouting behind him. He turned back to Purple, who had slung his head in his hands and was staring vacantly at the floor between his feet, muttering under his breath as he ran through unknown thoughts concerning Irk knows what in that bizarre head of his. It had been a while since he had been this worked up, and Red hated every moment of his whiny, smeet-like pouting contests he would have with himself. Ugh, please don't be one of those times. It would be completely asinine to lose control over something as simple as a medical splint. Seriously, it was a _splint_. Boo-hoo, suck it the hell up! Red felt his irritation rising in his chest when Purple heaved an over exaggerated sigh and looked up with a pout to stare impassively out of the window. Red was putting a stop to this pathetic nonsense. Now. He limped back to his seat and threw himself down, watching Purple shoot up at the unexpected sound then immediately slump forward once more.

"What the hell is wrong with you? It's just a splint so get over it already." Red shook his head with a grumble, the fire in the pit of his stomach only growing when his companion continued to give him the silent treatment. "Geez, you always stress out over nothing!"

That did it. Purple went stiff where he sat, tearing his hands from his face and snapping his hot gaze up to meet Red's; a dark, bottomless void of furious murky lavender burning into him and tearing him apart from the inside. Red returned the challenge, holding his animalistic stare and refusing to be made subservient to someone who couldn't even handle standard medical procedures. If Purple wanted to play this game, he would lose. They both knew that.

"You're being a smeet!" Red's growl came out harsher than he was expecting. "If you're going to be like this all the way back to Irk over a splint, I'm asking for another room!"

"It's not the splint!" Purple cried out, a sudden desperation breaking their fury and quickly changing the tone of their seemingly pointless conversation to something much more serious. "Quit talking to me like I'm _stupid_! I can't deal with your power complex right now!"

Red was taken aback by the twinge of anguish lacing Purple's weighty, domineering voice. He shrunk back where he sat, feeling his irritation dissolve on contact and leave him in a terrible fugue of confusion and bewilderment. Purple still refused to break eye contact, digging under his co-leader's skin and making him feel unbelievable small. Oh, Irk, he had done it again, hadn't he? Red always felt a little guilty when he lashed out at Purple and had been getting better with recognizing when he wanted to. The Control Brains had known of his bitter, uncontrolled rage and had forced him to sit through fifteen grueling anger management sessions many cycles ago, much to Red's immediate protest. He would never admit it, but they actually helped. Usually, he would remember to do his breathing exercises before taking out his anger on Purple but, this time, his harsh words had just slipped out. Ugh. He had said the wrong thing again and was paying the price…oops.

"I'm sorry. I don't think you're stupid." He began, any remaining frustrations subsiding to be replaced with genuine concern. He thought carefully over his words. "Do you…I dunno…feel like talking about it?"

Purple finally tore his strenuous gaze away and immediately shook his head, refusing to budge an inch from where he wallowed in his own self-loathing. "No."

Ugh. This old shtick. Red would have to ramp up his sweet act if he was going to drag out the crux of the issue. "Come on, I promise I won't judge you." Red pressed. "We're stuck in this tiny ship until we get back to Irk so, whatever it is, you can tell me. Plus, you're Tallest, so you could probably start a new fashion statement." He nodded to Purple's lopsided antenna, trying to lighten the suffocating atmosphere. "Can you imagine hundreds of soldiers running around like that? I don't know about you, but I think that would be pretty hilarious."

Purple's gaze softened a little as a smile threatened to peak on his face. He tried to keep his frustrated scowl to little avail, the thought overwhelming him and finally breaking the tension. A tiny chuckle slipped out at the comical image of their entire Armada rocking medical splints in his honor. Ok, that would be pretty funny.

Red leaned forward slightly, knowing he had finally hooked Purple back into his grip. "So…what's this all about, Pur? If not the splint, then what?"

Purple swallowed, still refusing to meet his friend's eyes as he mulled over whether or not he wanted to get out what was eating away at him. He wasn't entirely sure he was ready to face it again. He glanced up momentarily and stole a fleeting look at Red, hurriedly examining his expression to make sure he was completely serious about actually wanting to listen. When he waited patiently, Purple took a deep breath and willed himself to calm. It would be better to talk now rather than on Irk. At least here they were away of the hundreds of prying eyes of the paparazzi…for now.

"Um…" He reached up and shakily brushed his heavy antenna back once more. "So…you know how I used to be a mechanic before becoming Tallest?"

Red rolled his eyes but immediately caught himself from saying something stupid again. What did that have to do with anything? "Yeah, yeah. I remember. What's your point?"

Purple narrowed his eyes and gripped at the edge of his seat. "Hey, this is important! If you didn't wanna listen then why'd you offer?"

"Fine, sorry. Keep going."

"Anyway," Purple cleared his throat as his nerves crept back in, "I worked on the Massive under Tallest Spork. I'd go back to Irk for holiday then come back to the ship for several cycles." Fear rose in his throat, choking him and pulling the words from his tongue. "But…um…"

"But what?"

"Promise you won't laugh?"

"Geez, yes, I promise. Would you just spit it out already?"

"Eh…but…I-I never had to see combat." Purple's admittance came out all at once, an incoherent jumble of syllables that Red could hardly make out.

Red cocked his head, not following the vague argument, and unsure if there even was one. Combat? Why was he bringing that up now? "I know, I've helped you dodge it forever." He replied slowly, watching Purple shift nervously where he sat. "I don't think I'm understanding where you're going with all this, Pur."

"Let me finish. I never realized how dangerous being Tallest could be. I always thought it would be easy, and I had you here to help me, but…then Zim and that weird Earth kid flew us into a star, and I saw how much the universe wanted us dead." There was an uncharacteristic urgency to Purple's voice that set Red on edge. "A-and then there was that…thing."

"What thing?"

"The Florpus, Red! That weird hole is stuck in my head and I can't get it to go away! We've blown up planets and nebulas but I never had to see the pain and suffering first hand." Purple's breathing quickened and his PAK beeped, alerting him to his rapidly escalating stress levels and erratic pulse. "The awful sounds, the blood, the _bodies_, Red. The bodies are stuck in my mind! I knew all of those Irkens before they died and they were there one minute and then just…_gone_. A-And the smell…death smells different than what you told me it was like. Going from peace to something that violent and disturbing…I don't feel right after seeing something that…that-" A sudden wave of anxiety-induced nausea overcame him, cutting him off and forcing him to clamp a frantic hand over his mouth.

"Hey, hey!" Red yelped in alarm, jumping up and gritting through the pain to kneel in front of his frenzied co-Tallest. He placed his hands on his knees and noticed he was unconsciously shaking, gripping lightly and wincing when he forgot about his busted finger. "Just breathe, Pur." He took a deep breath, guiding Purple to follow his lead.

Purple swallowed but didn't argue, moving his free hand down to Red's and seeking out his warmth. Surprisingly, he didn't smack him away as usual, but entwined their fingers together to try and give him the comfort he desperately needed. Purple felt like an idiot but followed Red's lead as he guided him through a few deep, soothing breaths, removing his hand from his mouth when he felt the dense, sick feeling finally pass.

Red examined his face closely, leaning forward for a better look and urging Purple to meet his soft gaze. "There. Better?" He asked smoothly, trying to keep his composure and remain sympathetic for his friend's sake.

Purple's expression didn't change as he scanned Red's face. "You know I'll probably puke all over you if you stay there."

Red couldn't help the smile that peaked on his face. "Hey, it wouldn't be the first time." At least Purple's strange humor was shining through again. That was a good sign.

"Shut up, I don't need you to remind me." Purple retorted with a halfhearted chuckle.

His newfound smile didn't last long, fading away as he squeezed Red's fingers, tracing every line in his face and waver of his eyes until he thought he could get lost in the bottomless crimson he adored. Even if Red was a conceited asshole with a need to dominate everyone around him, Purple found an overwhelming sense of comfort and ease in his presence. He was lucky to have been paired up with Red when Spork died all those cycles ago and didn't know how he survived without him for so long before. Purple's eyes trailed down on impulse, stopping on Red's lips, curled into the arrogant smile he had come to love. No. Not this…not now. A slew of disturbing thoughts knocked somewhere in the far reaches of his damaged mind and he forced himself to blink, glancing to the side and trying to drown out his intense want to lean down and…no. Stop it. He's your friend and co-Tallest and that's all he'll ever be to you. You've been over this thousands of times in your head and you know how disgusting and wrong this is. What came next was an impulse, a tiny peek into the center of everything Purple felt himself sinking deeper into.

"Red, you almost died."

Red froze a moment, before a look of unconcerned apathy overcame him with a snort. "I've almost died thousands of times. I'm not afraid of the end, Pur, and, even if I did die, you'd still be able to rule the Empire without me. You're smart, so you'd be able to figure it out."

His unwanted response only made Purple more nervous and he again tightened his grip on his hand. "But…I don't want to." He still wasn't getting through Red's thick skull. "You don't get it. All I could think about when we were stuck in that stupid hole was getting to you and keeping you safe."

"Pur, I can keep myself safe. Do you know how many times I've crash landed on foreign planets in my career and had to find my way off of them all by myself?" Red gave a hearty laugh but stopped when he felt Purple's fingers twitch in his, reeling himself back in and trying to grasp why this was such a big deal. "Look, if that's what you're worried about, don't be. I'm not going anywhere and you're stuck with me forever, whether you like it or not."

Purple wasn't convinced, running over Red's claws with his fingertips as he thought. "You say that, but _I_ had to pull you off of the bridge. What if you had suffocated out there with the rest of the-" he stopped, pushing the memory of the gagging, screaming crew from his mind to the best of his ability. "Anyway, almost losing you has made me realize how rough life for us is going to be from now on and…um…I don't wanna be on the Massive for a few weeks while it's being repaired." He tacked on his hasty whisper at the end, trailing off and hoping Red wouldn't completely understand but would agree regardless.

"What?!"

Damn. So much for their heartfelt moment.

Red's jaw went slack and he tried to pull his hand away, but Purple held fast. "Are you crazy? They need us there to oversee the repairs! One brush with death can't keep us from being the Tallest, you idiot!"

"I'm not saying give anything up!" Purple snapped hotly, frustrated that Red would even think he would be dumb enough to relinquish their status. "We can still work, just not from the Massive. I want to introduce a Planetary Conversion Specialist in our absence to make sure Operation Impending Doom II runs smoothly while we're gone. I'm going to route any important information and dockets through our personal transmitters. And," Purple was almost satisfied when Red groaned in protest, "I want to take a few days off for ourselves."

He needed this time with Red, more than he could ever begin to understand. They hadn't had time off in…well…Purple didn't really know. As soon as they were inaugurated and the re-encoding ceremony was complete, they had tirelessly worked and toiled over their plans for galactic conquest and social reform. Sure, Purple didn't regret any of the time they had spent on reworking the Empire, but he couldn't go back to the Massive with the images of mangled bodies floating through his head. Not yet. He reached up, wanting to touch the side of Red's face, but was hastily smacked away.

"I can't believe you!" Red curled his lip in disgust. "You see a little death and suddenly everything falls apart? Life isn't all candy and sunshine, Purple!"

The hypercritical look on Red's face stung, and Purple knew he still didn't understand his reasoning. He probably never would, and Purple didn't care. All he cared about was getting out of space and enjoying the feeling of solid Irk beneath his feet after cycles of pillaging and destruction. It would be nice to have a little peace for a change.

"I know that, but we haven't been on Irk in so long. Don't you wanna go home sometimes?" He pointed out, hoping to convince his tenacious colleague. "Let's get out of space and actually enjoy our own planet for once."

Red nearly gagged at the idea. "You mean go on vacation? On _Irk_? Do you know how many paparazzi would be following us?" He rolled his eyes at the awful thought. "We would be all over the media before we could blink!"

"We don't have to tell them where we're going."

Red tried to stand and grumbled something when Purple kept his tight grip on his fingers. "You're right; that Florpus _did_ fuck up your head. That's an amazing idea! Let's not tell anyone where were going and watch the Empire catch on fire from a distance when they think we're _dead_."

"Red, I'm being serious." Purple was put off by the abrupt determination of his own voice. Red knew better than to deny him what he wanted and if he kept it up, Purple was going to yell. If nothing else worked, all he had to do was incessantly scream out embarrassing secrets Red had told him until he complied. Worked every time.

"Do you want me to start yelling? I seem to recall you crying your eyes out over a romantic comedy a few weeks ago and I'm sure the crew would love to hear about it."

Red's irritated gaze snapped up, but he kept quiet. _Finally_. Maybe now Purple could get on with what he wanted to say.

Purple gave him a tiny smile of satisfaction, knowing he had finally won. "We can let our advisory team know where we're going when we figure it out. I need time to get over all of this and I can't do it out here." He leaned down and draped his arms loosely around Red's neck, resting his chin on his shoulder with a low sigh. "A-and I want you to come with me." He added, slightly embarrassed by his need for contact and hoping Red wouldn't read too much into it.

Red groaned and diverted his gaze back to the floor, trying to think. Purple wasn't just his co-Tallest; they were best friends. Red considered them closer than smeets hatched in the same creation sequence, but this idea to return home was absolutely insane. Death happened all the time and was completely natural, even if it sometimes happened in unnatural ways. Everyone met their end, and Red couldn't comprehend why Purple was so worked up after glimpsing what they thought was theirs. They survived, didn't they? So, why the theatrics?

"This is a bad idea, Pur." He mulled over what he was about to say, annoyed that he had even had to suggest it. "Look, I'm fine if you want to go back home for a few days but let me stay with the Massive. At least one of us has to keep up appearances for the cameras after this whole thing. We can't let the public think we're weak." Please take it.

"No."

Ugh.

"The whole point of this is for both of us to get away, _together_. As much as you think you're still 150 you're not, Red. You're 351." Purple pointed out, swallowing when Red winced at the mention of the number. "You're going to make yourself sick if you don't learn to slow down sometimes. You're _going_ to come with me, and I'm not giving you a choice."

Red knew that was that. Purple had dismantled his conscious and bent it to his manipulative, but honestly sound, motives. He despised when others brought up his age. Irken males could live for up to 1,200 cycles, but that didn't stop Red from noticing the unbearable number of soldiers under 200 that were now flying in the Armada. Every cycle they seemed to get younger and younger, and every cycle Red had to deal with ambassadors and officers nearly half his age. It secretly bothered him, and Purple knew that, bringing it up as ammunition when he thought Red was getting a little too uppity for his taste. Red sighed against his friend's cheek, feeling his grip around his shoulders tighten. A part of him knew that Purple needed this before he would be able to effectively let go and return to his usual, snarky self. Geez...what was he doing?

"It would only be a few days?" Red asked tentatively, afraid for the answer but already knowing he had lost.

Purple nodded against him, staring past his shoulder and out the window to the dazzling oranges and vivid yellows of the immense nebula they were passing through. "Yeah. I'll even be nice and let you pick where we go."

The minuscule glimmer of anticipation in Purple's voice sealed the deal, and Red wanted to smack himself for being so susceptible to his friend's annoying quirks and wishes. Purple always knew exactly what to say to get what he wanted and Red, for some reason, always let him. Everyone knew Purple always got what he wanted, and it looked like his winning streak was going to keep going strong. Red scowled to himself but bit his tongue, instead reaching up and returning Purple's embrace in an effort to calm his anxieties. He swallowed, thinking back to his first solo flight as a pilot when he was still part of the Irken Elite, remembering the horrendous moments when his ship had been overtaken by a rogue Vortian rebel outside the planet Callnowia. Red had fought for his life and had tried to leave through the escape pod but was forced to shoot the rebel through the chest when he cornered him. Death was natural, but the first time seeing it up close was always sickeningly mind-altering, hollow, and disturbing. It never left you, and even someone as powerful and resolute as Red still remembered the look on his enemy's face when the light left his eyes. He had desperately hoped that Purple would keep his purity and never have to see anything as horrific as he had seen in his years of service, but he had been overdue to see his first life crushed. At least he had survived the torture…sort of.

"The first time seeing death is always the hardest. I won't lie, you'll never be able to forget it." Red mumbled solemnly, rubbing soothing circles into his friend's back. He knew Purple would never be the same. "I can give you tips for the nightmares, but you have to be tough. If you let this consume you, it'll be hell trying to get out. Trust me, I've been there." He paused, bracing for the inescapable, deafening exhilaration that was to come. "But…I guess I can come if you really want me-"

"Yes! Yes I do!" Purple cried, tightening around Red and practically choking him in the process. "I knew I could get you to come! I've been thinking, and I already have some places in mind!

"Woah, woah, woah. But you said _I_ could pick"

"I lied. But you can have the final say."

"Ugh, fine. They better be good."

* * *

Curtains close on chapter 1! Reviews appreciated, and thank you loves!

(Chapter reworked by beta reader Tom on 9.23.19 and rewrote by author Charlotte on 9.25.19)


	2. The Night We Met

Hello! I wanted to say that a lot of Fanfiction deviates from the canon (obviously) of whatever is being written. If you guys are interested in the actual background of the Tallest, I recommend watching the Invader Zim cast do a live reading of the unaired episode "The Trial." You can find it on YouTube. Lots of juicy info in there and super sad it never physically aired. Have fun kids. Don't stay in school.

* * *

_**An undefinable amount of time in the past**_;

"Hey! Help me pull this plasma core out! I can't reach it."

Purple looked up from the rusted panel he was welding, blinking the blinding light from his eyes. He reached up and tugged his thick rimmed goggles down, allowing them to fall around his neck. Standing and popping his sore back, he wiped his greasy gloves on the front of his uniform, adding to the black stains already there. No matter how hard he tried, he was always covered in petroleum.

"What'd you say? I didn't hear you."

A small mechanic appeared from around the side of the battered Spittle Runner they had been working on. Unfortunately, the plasma core had been damaged in flight by an unknown projectile, causing the pilot to crash land on a nearby moon. It had been towed to the docking bay of the Massive where Purple and the rest of the imperial mechanics had set to work repairing it.

"I said," the head mechanic held up a finger and tried to catch his breath, "help me pull out this shitty plasma core."

Purple frowned, following his associate around the front of the mangled ship. The mechanic stretched up on his toes but was unable to see inside the open hull. "Can't you just use your PAK extension?" Purple asked, curiously examining the pitted hull himself.

The mechanic rubbed the back of his head, smearing oil and cosmic soot over his inflamed skin. "Naw, it's still broke from the last time and Lar is using the stool." He jabbed a thumb to where Lar stood on the stool, sifting through a bin of scrap metal.

"Still broken?" Purple huffed. That was over two weeks ago. "You should send out another notice to engineering after our shift. They probably lost the last one." He replaced his goggles and readjusted the strap, flipping the switch on the side. He blinked as the sudden light of the x-ray lit up his internal screen, scanning the interior of the ship for the core. He cocked his head and moved slightly to the right, spotting the collapsed hunk of metal. "There she is."

Purple needed no extension or stool to reach the core. His already exaggerated height and long limbs made him popular with the rest of the team. They were always asking him to do the hard jobs, not because they were lazy, but because they weren't strong or tall enough. He leaned into the popped hull of the Spittle Runner, bracing himself with one hand against the hood and grasping the clutch to the core with the other. He gave it a sharp twist to the left, feeling the rush of steam as the power cell unlocked and let off whatever remaining heat it had trapped. He gingerly removed it from its internal casing, careful not to drop it, and heaved it from the ship, setting it on the hard ground with a metallic thunk. He removed his goggles once more.

The mechanic whistled and shook his head at the faintly glowing core, watching it sputter and fizzle out in an instant. "Man, this thing's totally busted. I can't believe it hung on that long." He reached out and plucked a pebble from the side of the badly dented grate. "Can you believe that this little rock caused this whole ship to crash? Scary." He tossed the tiny rock over his shoulder. "Well, you know what to do. Take your badge and go get another one from supply up-deck and we'll see if we can't get her to purr again."

Purple grinned and nodded, spinning on his heel to retrieve his badge from his work tray. He only made it two steps before a loud, antennae-piercing alarm echoed through the docking bay, bouncing off the walls. He scrunched up his face and turned back around, letting his shoulders sag. Everyone knew what that sound meant. More work.

"Clear runway for docking." The familiar robotic voice pipped cheerfully through the loudspeaker. "All personnel please make your way to designated safety areas."

The mechanic groaned. "Shit. I didn't receive notice of another one going down. These Runners are advanced but they sure as Irk aren't sturdy as the old Voot Cruisers used to be." He sighed and unclipped a carabiner and sturdy ribbon from the side of his work boot. "Better activate your helmet and get strapped in."

Purple followed the same routine he was used to. He unhooked his own carabiner and followed his boss to the side wall. The other mechanics had already clipped themselves to the sturdy guardrail bowing up from the floor. One by one, they activated their atmospheric helmets, watching as a pink film enveloped them before fading from sight. Each checked to ensure their neighbor's was in working order before the head mechanic gave a thumbs up to the flag guide at the edge of the runway.

"Clear!" The guide called, clipping himself into a separate sliding rail and preparing to safely guide the ship into its designated docking port.

"Docking bay depressurizing." The voice called out again over the loudspeaker. "Preparing for arrival."

Purple knew the other mechanics dreaded this part, but for him, it never got old. The controlled atmosphere was slowly released into space as the Massive's docking port gradually fell open. He could hear his own breath in his helmet as a familiar weightless feeling overcame him and his body was carried up, abruptly jerked to a stop by the sturdy ribbon. The carabiner held fast, securing him into place as he craned his neck to try and see the incoming vessel. What he saw was unexpected.

"Look at that!" His boss rang out over the internal radio channel in his helmet, his voice cluttered with static. "It's beautiful!"

The massive incoming ship wasn't damaged at all. It was quite the opposite. A fresh coat of vivid red paint glistened in the interior lights of the bay, accompanied by the authoritative hum of a powerful generator from deep within the cabin. Two powerful canons protruded from the front. They were pristine and it was obvious that they had never been fired, but Purple would never want to be on their receiving end. His eyes followed the beautiful, sleek tail to the familiar black insignia of the Irken Elite laser etched into the metal. It was almost a shame that such a pretty ship had been stained with a watermark like that.

"Is that a Ring Cutter?" Purple breathed into his mouthpiece, awestruck by the sheer opulence the ship oozed. He blinked, realizing what this meant for the crew. "Was there any notice sent out as to who was arriving?"

"Not that I know of," the mechanic mumbled back, unable to peel his eyes from the gorgeous piece of Irken engineering.

The guide ushered the ship slowly into its docking port, remaining in clear view of the pilot. Two heavy mechanical prongs ascended from the floor and hooked themselves into the Ring Cutter's landing gear, locking it firmly into place. Exhaust filled the bay but filtered out quickly as the ship's powerful engine came to a silky smooth rest, settling down into the prongs supporting it.

"Stand clear. Docking bay re-pressurizing. All personnel are to remain in the designated safety areas until the check light is off."

It didn't take long for the workstation to return to normal. As soon as the heavy bay door closed and Purple's feet reconnected with the ground, he fumbled to turn off his helmet and hastily unclipped himself. He practically sprinted to where the Ring Cutter had been docked, his hands itching to work on this awe-inspiring machine, to scrutinize and learn from her intricate wiring and potent computer systems. He stopped a few feet away and noted the subtle nuances in the perfect welding job. He tentatively reached out, running his hand gently over the searing hot metal, pulling back as it stung through his glove. This wasn't assembled in some standard military factory on Vort; this was a custom job done on Irk. He recognized the imported paint from Tallest Miyuki's fleet before it was decommissioned. Seeing as how this ship was fresh off the market, there was no telling how the pilot got their hands on such a rare shade. And that meant whoever they were, they either had great connections or were greatly feared. Probably both.

There was a mechanical whine as the cabin stairs slowly fazed open and descended to the platform. Two heavily armored guards moved in unison, each carrying pointed staves, securing the surrounding area for potential threats before giving the all-clear. One of the guards jumped down from the platform and whistled at the sorry sight before him.

"Tools down, dock rats!" He barked. "Fall into formation!"

On instinct, Purple straightened his spine and went rigid in salute where he stood, his fellow associates scrambling to fall in line next to him. They hadn't been this nervous since their last inspection. The guard glared down the line, seemingly unsatisfied with the lack of stature amongst him. He gave a disgusted sneer and made a gruff noise in the back of his throat, coughing a bit. He turned back to the Ring Cutter and slammed the end of his spear hard against the ground, snapping back any drifting attention.

"The floor is clear, Commander!" He called swiftly, throwing his free arm up in a brazen show of respect.

Purple dared not move, let alone breathe. He fixed his eyes on the stairs and felt his spooch flip as the Commander finally revealed himself, the tail of his crisp elite uniform barely brushing the ground behind him. It wasn't every day they were graced with such high-ranking company. Arms behind his back, he elegantly descended the stairs, his heavy footsteps deafening in the hushed bay. He was young but shared the same battle-hardened glower as some of Irk's oldest warriors. The first thing Purple noticed about him was his height. He commanded attention and towered over his guards, causing Purple's breath to hitch and his palms to grow sweaty in his already hot gloves. He hadn't met anyone as tall as he was in person before, and the only taller being he knew was Tallest Spork. It was odd being on the same level as someone else, disturbing actually, and it made his legs shake. The second thing he noted was the blinding amount of red the Commander had slathered himself in. It was unbelievably intimidating and harsh on the eyes; everything from his boots to his jacket to his heavy armored breastplate were all painted the same obnoxious hue. But there was something else. Something Purple couldn't quite put his finger on. Something that enticed and repelled him at the same time. He wracked his brain on the issue and scolded himself in his head when he finally realized what it was, annoyed and slightly ashamed. The Commander was kind of…attractive. Not in the traditional sense of the word, but in a stuck-up-asshole kind of way. Purple hated these thoughts when they arose, pushing them to the back of his mind and internally screaming at himself to shut up. This guy was an Elite Commander! Of course he was attractive! Wasn't that a prerequisite or something? Purple had seen other high-ranking officers and they were generally very pretty to look at, so of course the Commander was no exception. Supposedly, it helped boost morale and gave lesser Irkens something to strive for.

With every long stride the Commander took, Purple grew more and more uneasy until, finally and to his relief, he stopped several feet away. The haughty Irken gazed down the line, looking down at all of the sweaty, grubby mechanics shifting impatiently before him. He cleared his throat and the voice that followed was more nasally than Purple had been expecting.

"Greetings, Imperial Dock Crew! I want to thank you for your timely docking of my ship here in our beloved Massive." His eyes moved back down the line, scrutinizing every face he found. "I am Elite Commander Red. Some of you may know me from the airbase in Naphrus, others from my handiwork in Operation Viral Sweep."

Purple shuddered, realizing who was standing before him. He was _that_ Red? Purple had read about him a few cycles back. Viral Sweep was a campaign that used biological warfare against enemy factions hiding out on Irk's neighboring planets. It was decided upon in dire times of war in order to undermine potential assassination attempts on the Tallest. Once subjects were infected and unable to defend themselves, a ruthless team had been sent to cleanse them from the planets by force. This force had been excessive, violent, and merciless, but highly effective, pummeling the planetary surfaces with heavy cannon fire. There had been numerous atmospheric dogfights, but their efforts hadn't been in vain. Because of Red's team, the Empire was in it's longest consistent era of peace.

Red continued, pleased with the mixture of shock and fear on his subordinates faces. "I have been called here because there are talks of rebellion against Almighty Tallest Spork." His face changed, taking on more grave, sinister notes. "I have been appointed as the personal advisor to our Tallest in regard to this matter. I will be overseeing all activity here on the Massive and ask that if you find yourselves with any information regarding this rebel faction, that you please report it to your superiors who will then report it to me. Failure to do so will result in trial and incarceration and, depending on the severity of the situation, execution. Clear?" He took a breath and clicked his heels. "Once again, I thank you for having me aboard the Massive and I look forward to seeing more of your disgusting faces. Let's weed out those rebel bastards together!" With that he clapped his hands together in resolution, waving his subordinates on to continue their work.

Purple swallowed, a little too eager to leave, feeling smothered by the Commander's domineering presence. He turned and jumped when he heard a voice abruptly call him over.

"You! Tall mechanic!"

Purple froze in his tracks, every cell in his body alight and screaming at him to run. He heard Red approach him from behind and willed himself to calm down, trying to remember to breathe evenly so as to not make a fool of himself.

"Turn around." Red commanded coolly.

Purple felt dizzy and his head began to swim. Slowly he turned, his breathing shallow and forced. His face felt hot when he found himself at eye level with Red. His authoritative gaze burned up his skin but made his blood run cold as ice and he found himself unable to look away. He stood stiff for a few moments, mouth slightly agape, transfixed completely by how small he felt in the presence of someone of equal height.

"…oh wow…" he muttered under his breath, mesmerized.

Red gave an overexaggerated cough and snapped his fingers inches from Purple's face. "Hello? What was that? It's true that silence is strength, but too much makes you look like a fool." He sneered, unimpressed by his shallow first impression of Purple.

Purple immediately snapped back to attention, embarrassment washing over him. "A-ah! Yes, sir!" He threw out an agreement at random, unsure of what he had just agreed to if anything.

The corners of Red's mouth dipped lower in disapproval. "Ok, then. Anyway, I wanted to ask you a few questions, mechanic." He briskly looked Purple from head to toe. "Your name is…?"

Purple felt like Red was dissecting him with his eyes, unraveling him from the inside out. "U-um, Purple, sir."

Red shook his head in amusement and chuckled. "Purple? That's a weird name. Did you pick that yourself?" He continued to laugh, making Purple squirm at the sound of his voice, conflicted as to whether he should like it or hate it. "Is it because of your-," he gestured to Purple's deep amethyst eye color, "-eyes? You know that's technically a defect. I wouldn't have chosen a name that highlights my weaknesses."

Purple glanced to the side, extremely uncomfortable by the rude comment. "Yes, sir, I picked it myself."

Red gave a final chuckle before a curt nod, getting to the point. "I wanted to ask what such a tall Irken like you was doing down here in the bowels of the ship?" He leaned forward on the balls of his feet, invading Purple's precious personal space. "At first, I thought it was a joke. But as filthy as you are you must really be a mechanic. You should be training to become part of the Elite. Height like yours is valued by Irkens like me and shouldn't be wasted on dirty work down here. Dirty work on the battlefield, now, that's a different story."

As the Commander leaned forward, he was unbearably close. Purple could feel the fringes of his body heat prickle against his cheeks like a furnace. And…he could smell Red. He smelled fresh yet musky, modest yet painfully expensive. A touch of worn leather lingered between them and made Purple feel like the world was moving in slow motion. Wait…was he _actually_ wearing a fragrance? Purple took a deep, silent inhale. Yes, he was definitely wearing something. How could he possibly afford to smell this good all the time? Purple glanced back at Red's posh ship. Oh. Right. He returned to deciphering the complex notes of the smell but couldn't quite pin it down. Whatever it was, it was oddly intoxicating. He felt his antennae relax a little as he was drawn in, hoping if he got just a little closer that the Commander would linger on his clothes after he was gone. Red took a few steps back, annoyed, and Purple quickly realized how ridiculous he must look.

"Are you…smelling me?" Red asked, grossed out.

"O-oh! No! No. I was just-" More time must have passed between them than Purple had anticipated. He shuffled his feet, unable to remember Red's original question. What the hell was wrong with him? Had he gone crazy? He heard a few of his associates giggle behind him and felt his face flush. Irk, he was such an idiot!

Red furrowed his brow, clearly turned off. "Never mind. I understand why you're down here now. You belong with your own kind."

A sudden pang of anger arose at the arrogance in Red's tone. Suddenly, Purple didn't care how tall the Commander was or how unnervingly delicious he smelled. "Hey!" He yelled, drawing the shocked attention of the other mechanics in the room. The loud chorus of clanking metal hushed. "And what exactly is my kind?"

"Ugh, could your voice get any higher? Look at you, you're covered in the dirt of the Empire. You're a dock rat." Red said simply in a matter-of-fact tone. "And," he snickered, "you obviously have no interest in the Elite, or you would have gone through preliminary training on Devastis, what," he mulled around Purple's age, "80 years ago? You know what I think?"

Purple felt the atmosphere shift into dangerous hostility. He let it. "Humor me."

"I think you're afraid." Red dug into him, clawing deeper under Purple's skin. "I'd bet 500 moneys right now that you're dodging service because you're afraid of combat. That's technically illegal you know." He waited for a response. When none came, he knew he was right and laughed. He abruptly turned to walk away, stopped, and gave Purple a cheeky side glance. "How shameful."

"I'm not afraid! Especially not of a bastard like you!" Purple snapped, trying to antagonize Red to turn back around and face him.

"Oh, of course not!" Red mused sarcastically, back still turned. "But tell me, after all this time working on Irken engineering do you even have the skill to fly it? Or is that above your pay grade?"

Purple gritted his teeth, nearly locking his jaw. "Yes! I've flown dozens of cruisers! I've even taken control of a damaged Shuuver before!"

Red's interest was peaked once more, antennae perked not out of spite but out of thrill for the challenge. He stalked back to where the mechanic stood, getting in his face. "You think that's impressive? Try piloting a Viral Tank out of an asteroid belt while it's on fire. Twice."

Purple narrowed his eyes. "Big deal. I would have been smart enough to stay out of that mess in the first place. Let alone twice. You forget, Commander, I repair these ships and I don't think you realize how dangerous that can be for you. Just because I'm not a trained pilot in your precious Elite doesn't mean I'm not capable of feeling my way around space!" He thrust a finger in Red's face, who didn't so much as flinch. "Do you know how much calculating, how much _time_, goes into building a Ring Cutter?" He nodded at Red's ship. Silence. "Well I do! I've torn hundreds apart and put them back together by hand! And I could get my wrench in there and unscrew one little bolt you'd never think to miss and have you floating out in space for the rest of your worthless life! Or worse; kaboom! Explosion! Dead!"

A few panicked gasps sounded from behind Purple as the other mechanics scrambled to barricade themselves behind their tool chests, bracing for a fight. Purple planted his feet firmly into the ground as one of Red's guards stalked forward, brandishing his spear.

Red stopped the guard with a light palm to the chest, not once tearing his gaze from Purple's, eating up the juicy intensity and heat their conversation had led to. How interesting. The corners of his mouth twitched, suggesting a smile, but his dubious half lidded eyes proposed the opposite. "Are you threatening me, little mechanic?" He clicked his tongue in his cheek.

"You should be careful who you call little. We're the same height, sir. Wouldn't want to insult your ego." Purple spat.

Red paused for a moment and straightened up. Purple half expected to walk away from the encounter with a split lip but Red merely watched him, curious, gaze flittering coolly from the rank on Purple's shoulder to his eyes. Those bright, determined eyes...dammit. Under duress, the same thoughts from before wormed their way back into Purple's mind. Red was disgusting and the embodiment of everything wrong with today's Empire, and Purple wanted nothing more than to punch his lights out and punt him clear up to the bridge. How dare he question his abilities and the abilities of his team! He wanted to force him out of the emergency airlock like the trash he was. He wanted to ruin him, humiliate him in front of the entire Massive and the Tallest and when Red was broken and down, he would smash their mouths together and-. Purple's eyes widened at the realization of where his mind had taken him, feeling the color drain from his face and flood back in growing intensity. He shot up, stumbling back from Red gracelessly. Mayday! Dangerous territory! Abort mission! Red's eyes on him only made it worse, scorching him and muffling the rest of world around him. Bastard! Why won't you look away?! His organs twisted and his PAK took immediate notice to the raising levels of heat flooding his form.

"Stress levels rising. Organ failure imminent." His PAK wrongfully diagnosed. "Shocking in 3, 2, 1."

"Wait, that's not righ-" Purple yelped when his PAK sent a painful jolt of electricity up his spine, fanning out across his veins and landing sharply in his spooch. He coughed and fell backwards, landing hard on his backside. He felt his fingers twitch as the electricity grounded itself, leaving him sputtering on the cold floor.

Red hovered over him, puzzled. "Woah, mechanic. I've been told my stare is lethal, but you weren't supposed to take that literally." He muttered, actually sounding a little guilty.

Purple was dazed. "Wassat? You didn't scare me." He slurred. There was an awful taste of metal in his mouth.

Any remaining traces of hostility left Red at the hilarious sight. A fat grin spread across his face and a sudden light sparked in his crimson eyes. He chuckled warmly and extended a hand down to Purple. "Geez, you're such a _freak_! I've never seen anyone take a shock like that and not be out cold. I'm actually impressed."

Purple hesitated at the sudden character change, urging his nerves to calm, before reaching up and taking Red's hand. His firm grip sent another small tingle up Purple's spine as he was heaved up to his feet. Red had such strong hands.

"You didn't scare me." Purple snapped again. He ripped his hand away, regaining his composure and making sure Red knew that he was definitely NOT afraid while secretly hoping Red hadn't noticed anything damning.

Red gave him a conceited half smile and shrugged. "Whatever you say, mechanic." He turned, determined to actually take his leave this time. "If you're interested in joining the Elite, feel free to contact me anytime about training opportunities on Devastis. My information has already been imported into the Massive's directory. You should think about it."

Purple immediately shook his head at the offer. "I'm happy here, sir." He said curtly, crossing his arms across his chest.

Red broke his gaze for the first time since their encounter began. He thought a moment. "Don't fuck up my ship, then."

With that, he and his guards strode briskly across the docking station to the transport pod. They stepped inside and Purple stole a final glimpse of Red's satisfied smirk before the doors closed and the pod shot up to the bridge and out of sight. Finally, Purple could breathe; glad the whole ordeal was over. He exhaled heavily, feeling defeated and battered by the young Commander and his stare of doom. He trudged to his workstation and slumped down on the stool Lar had brought over, smoothing his hands over his cheeks in an attempt to brush away the color that was undoubtedly painted there.

"Oh, Purple." His boss chuckled knowingly from beside him, munching on his lunch. "That was pathetic."

Purple covered his face with his hands. "Right?" He groaned. "That guy is a total piece of work!"

"No, I mean you. You're pathetic." His boss took another bite, speaking with his mouth full. "Could you get any more obvious?"

"What? I don't know what you're talking about."

"You were smelling the guy. _Smelling_ him. The crew and I always wondered about you, but I guess we were spot on, huh?" He snickered a little.

Purple looked up and went to argue but gave up, exhausted, drenched, and mortified. He slunk back down into his hands, wanting to cry but determined to hold it together in front of his boss.

"I wasn't smelling him." He said in a small voice. What did he mean the crew had wondered about him? Did they know about his preferences? He'd tried so hard to keep them hidden, terrified at what the reaction might be. He'd heard of others on the Massive and on Irk who were stripped of their rank and reencoded as defective for taking a partner of the same sex. While all others attempted to find their life mates, Purple had remained alone, determined to dodge his inevitable doomed fate.

"Were too! You practically threw yourself at him!"

"I did not, shut up!"

"Was it the uniform?"

A brief flash of the Commander in his crisp uniform danced into Purple's mind, only further frustrating him. "No! Please stop asking me questions."

"Don't be such a stick in the sand, Purple. I won't tell. Everyone knows ladies go crazy for the Elite so it's only logical to assume it works on your kind too."

There was that phrase again. _Your kind_. It made Purple feel alienated and wrong. He crumpled deeper into himself.

The mechanic noticed and tossed his sandwich down into the wrapper, crossing his arms and leaning back against the Spittle Runner they had been working on. He looked to the left, then the right, making sure no one else was listening before changing the subject. "You know," he whispered, "That guy, Red, is rumored to be next in line for Tallest. Some claim he's the second tallest Irken in the Empire besides Tallest Spork."

"I don't care." Purple's muffled voice resounded from between his fingers.

"You should. Get in good with him while he's still a Commander and you'll be good as gold by the time Tallest Spork eventually kicks it." He wasn't too careful with his wording. "Think about it, Purple, you could really help us out down here if you're friends with that bastard. We could suck him dry! Get some new equipment, some decent ladders, maybe a mini fridge-"

"I'm not going to do that. That would put me on the same level as Red." Purple stood, disappointed in his boss. He replaced his goggles and grabbed his iron welder from where he left it. "He's not my equal."

"You should at least call him. You're going to miss a great opportunity here! Help a little guy out! Or at least hit a growth spurt and become Tallest yourself!"

Purple ignored his boss, kneeling to the panel he left off on. He clicked on his goggles and pretended to be deep in thought, raining sparks wildly in his boss's direction. His boss rolled his eyes and grunted, grabbing his sandwich and pushing off of the Runner, moving over to company more his stature. When he was sure he was gone, Purple flipped through the filters in his goggles, locating the Massive's directory and highlighting it. He scanned through hundreds of names and floors, stopping when he found Red. He swallowed thickly, pulling up his personal transmission code and ID photo. He was dressed to kill in his dress uniform, a look of smug complacency smeared over his features. And those stupid eyes…Purple turned off the welder and reached up, running his fingers under the lip of his lenses to smooth over his tired eyes. He didn't even know this guy. Why was he worrying so much about running into him again? He forced the directory shut and returned to his welding. It was stupid to think he even had a shot with an Irken like Red. He was high on a golden pedestal, and Purple was miles below him. He probably already had a mate and gave off the impression that he most definitely wasn't into _his kind_.

Purple raised his voice, anger boiling over once more. He threw his welding tool down. "IRK, WHAT AN-"

* * *

_**The post-Florpusy present**_;

"-ASSHOLE!" Purple's eyes snapped open and he shot forward from where he had been recharging.

Red gave a shriek of terror from where he sat, reading through the list of destinations Purple had suggested. He clutched the reader to his chest, eyes wide. "Dammit, Pur! What's wrong with you?!"

It took a few moments for Purple to realize where he was. His PAK must have been feeding him memories while he slept, feeling the code slither back down into its depths. He looked about the room and blinked away the last remaining flashes of the docking bay.

"Oh. Hey." He replied nonchalantly, readjusting to his surroundings.

"That's all you have to say after coming unglued in your sleep?" Red slowly resettled into where he was sitting, still wary.

Purple shrugged. "My PAK was showing me some old memories. At least they were good ones and nothing…_Florpusy_." The word rolled off his tongue and felt repulsive.

Red snorted, returning his regard to the list, still unsure which one to pick. "They didn't sound that great to me." He paused, tapping his claws impulsively on the screen of the reader, an old habit. "What were they anyway?"

Purple stood and stretched. "Oh, I don't know…just that day I met you on the Massive. Nothing special." He teased, hoping Red would look up. He didn't and Purple decided to break out the big guns. "I really liked that old breastplate you used to wear. And that stupid little train of fabric that drug behind you. It was all so…retro."

Red's eyes narrowed and he slammed the reader down on his lap, slinging his feet over the side of the seat to look Purple directly in the eye. Even as they had gotten older, he never lost the intensity to his stare.

"You didn't."

"I did."

Red threw his head back and gave an overexaggerated groan to the ceiling. "Pur, you promised you wouldn't bring that up again! You know I hated that thing!"

Purple flew into a fit of giggles, nearly doubling over. "Aw, what's the matter Red? It made you look distinguished." He held back another laugh unsuccessfully, nearly snorting. "And you so didn't hate it! I remember you puffing up in front of me, showing off all that red. You loved it and you know it. Or maybe you just loved the attention?" Purple remembered sneaking peeks of Red in the corridors of the Massive when they were younger. He secretly loved his uniform, loved the way Red wore it.

"So help me, Pur, I will hurt you." Red hissed. "Wait, was _I_ the asshole you were yelling at?"

"Duh. Who else?" Purple pestered. "You used to be so frustrating. I mean, you still are, but I just got used to you. I can't say the same for everyone else."

"Thanks," Red replied, monotone. "That makes me feel great about myself." Something glowed deep in his PAK and his eyes glazed over. He quickly scanned through line after line of code, hunting for the memory. When he found it, he pulled it out of the feed, playing it back like a movie in his head. A familiar confident smirk stretched across his face. "Damn, you weren't kidding though; I was terrible back then. Look at how scared all of you were." His eyes followed something unseen in front of him and he sighed, sentimental. "I used to be so fit."

Purple watched Red stare unblinkingly forward, absorbed with the memory in his head. "I wasn't scared of you." He played along, letting Red sink into nostalgia.

"Of _course_ you weren't," Red mused, using the same cynical tone from their first meeting. "I can clearly see it on your face. Geez, I forgot how gross you were. You're all covered in grease. Did you ever clean yourself?"

Purple popped his neck, crossing to where Red sat. "See? You'll never change, Red. You're destined to be mean to me for the rest of my life."

Red didn't respond. He continued to watch, staring blankly into space with a stupid smile on his face. Purple knew he couldn't see him as long as the memory was playing, so he took the time to look him over. Sure he was older, but after everything they had been through together, Purple still saw that young bastard of a Commander that had gotten so deep under his skin. Red was still wide-eyed, still power hungry, and was still a massive thorn in Purple's side. Red was so angry inside, this was something Purple knew well, so disillusioned with the world and ready to rip the PAK out of anyone who stood in the way of his precious Empire. A cut-throat ladder climber, he had clawed his way to the top with his impressive height and military campaigns. He'd forgone finding a romantic companion, trading it with undying dedication to his Tallest. In the end it wasn't enough for the Control Brains. He was too logical and manipulative, and they feared that the Empire would become too unstable under his rule alone. Despite this, he was still the tallest Irken they could find. When the representative arrived in the docking bay all those cycles ago, asking Purple to take on the Empire with Red, he initially refused. That refusal didn't last long, however, when the Control Brains overruled his decision, stating that his emotional, democratic nature would better compliment Red than any other Irken of similar height at the time. He and Red were forced to become a collective ruling unit. They avoided each other a lot and tiptoed around each other's schedules. After the disaster of Impending Doom I, the two were forced to come together and pool their strengths to rebuild Irk's infrastructure. It was grueling and they spent a lot of sleepless nights together in their myriad of conference rooms. It was there that their bond deepened and their legacy was shaped. They learned what the other liked and hated, how they slept, when they wanted to eat, when they felt happiness, sadness, and fear. It was moments like those that made them inseparable ever since.

"I forgot about this part!" Red chimed up, breaking Purple out of his thoughts. "The part where you got shocked and made a complete idiot of yourself! Man look at your face, Pur! Why won't you just admit that I scared you to organ failure?"

That was enough. Purple reared back and punched Red hard in the shoulder, knocking him sharply to the side. "My organs didn't fail because of your stare, Red! My PAK misdiagnosed the situation and you know it!" It was only a half lie.

"Ow! Alright, I'll shut up! My bruises just healed! Don't give me anymore!" His gaze refocused as the memory shut down and the room came back into view.

Purple jutted out his bottom lip in an immature pout. "Would you forget about all that and just pick a place? You're taking too long! We're almost to Irk and I wanna eat before we land!" His antennae piercing whine droned on until Red shot him an ungrateful glower.

"If you would have asked politely, you would know I already picked."

Purple's moan abruptly stopped and was replaced with enthusiasm. "Really? Where? Show me!" He reached out for the reader but Red kept it out of his reach.

"Be patient." he countered apathetically. "I chose this one." He pointed to the middle of the list.

Purple squinted at the reader. "This one? But that's in the Naphrus Region." He was a little taken aback. He had thrown that option in for flavor but was sure Red wouldn't pick it. Naphrus was a region to the north of the capitol and was the last virtually untouched piece of Irken wilderness. It was miniscule, spanning only a few thousand miles of the planets surface, and full of dense vegetation. At the center sat an abandoned airbase and a small research commune dedicated to preserving the native flora and fauna of the landscape.

"And?"

Purple frowned. "And you could have picked one of the more exciting places. I wrote down several cities."

Red leaned back, unconcerned and determined to get his way as he usually did. "Too bad. I don't want to go to a city. I've already been to every major city on Irk. They're great but they all look the same." He lifted his chin eagerly. "Plus, I want you to go somewhere you've never been, and I know you haven't been to Naphrus. I would have seen you there."

Purple cocked his head in uncertainty. When had Red been to…oh, yeah. His look soured. The airbase. He'd forgotten that Red was the acting commander of the Naphrus Elite before he transferred to the Massive. "I'm not going."

"It's either we go to Naphrus or we go to the Massive. It doesn't matter to me either way. You told me I could pick and that's what I picked." Red looked smug, feeling as if he'd finally taken control of the whole ordeal.

"That's because you used to oversee it! It'll be like going home for you! For me that's too much nature." Purple stuck out his tongue and shuddered at the thought of trudging around in unknown plants. What if they were poisonous? Or even worse; what if they were sentient? "And what are we going to eat?" The thought of being so far from a snack reserve was way more terrifying.

"They have reserves at the research facility. We can stop there for daily rations and then go explore the region. If we start at dawn every morning and move at a pace of about 50 miles a day, we could be back to the facility every day by dusk." Red mapped out the landscape in his head, furrowing his brow and trying to remember every crag and landmark "That's if the landscape is how I remember it. It's probably pretty overgrown by now."

"No! I'm not going somewhere I could get killed by stepping on the wrong plant."

"You wrote it down, genius. If you didn't want to go, you shouldn't have written it down."

"In my defense, I thought you'd be cooler and pick someplace that's actually nice. I'm trying to _destress_, Red, not worry more."

"But," Purple sighed when he heard Red put on his grandfatherly speech-telling voice, "there's a new study I've been reading about called 'forest bathing.' You basically immerse yourself in nature and it's supposed to be very decluttering to your mind and your PAK. It's good for depression, anxiety…"

Purple tuned out as Red continued to rattle off a list of things the forest could do. He found all of this incredibly suspicious. How could a bunch of trees help him get over his emotional baggage? But, on the other hand, it would just be him and Red together. Alone. They wouldn't have to worry about anyone intruding, hopefully, that far from the city. Out there they could talk about whatever they wanted without limitations or cameras. It would be their time and their time alone without thousands of excited Irkens crowding them. Not that Purple hated that idea either, but he really wanted to be engrossed in all that Red was and not have to share. He didn't like sharing.

"…and there's this new trend about picking wild things and eating them. I had to do that back in the day a few times for training but I'm not going to lie, it's not great." Red continued to babble on like a broken record.

Purple shoved him lightly, effectively silencing him. "Ugh, you're starting to sound so old." He giggled playfully, his interest returning. Maybe this could actually be fun. "You can't turn to dust on me yet."

"If and when I turn to dust, promise me you'll sprinkle me over the food of our enemies. I want to have the last laugh when they find out I'm inside them." Red scrunched up his face and rubbed his palms together in a joking maniacal way.

They laughed together, Red standing and throwing the list to the side. His hunger for adventure like the old days overtook his senses, and Purple could see it glistening fiercely in his eyes. For the first time in a long while, he noticed a look of genuine happiness in Red's smile, untainted by the worries of the Empire. It was a complete 180 from the fury he had thrown at Purple when he proposed the idea and it was rare to see Red enthusiastic about anything other than his job or food. Maybe the longing for his time in Naphrus was clouding his judgement, but Purple would take what he could get.

He reached out and took Red by the wrists. He still smelled of the same light fragrance. It was comforting. "You're not worried about the Empire?"

Red's smile faded a little. "Well, of course I am, but I started thinking about what you said when you were asleep. It's just a few cycles. Our officers are capable of repairing the Massive and we can have scouts run recon to enemy planets. With the research facility out there in the forest there will be a steady signal so we'll still be able to remotely control everything through our transmitters if we need to." His smile reappeared. "You convinced me. Let's go, Pur."

Purple preened under the nickname. "Ok, ok, you stupid asshole. But the moment I get bit by anything we're coming back to the capitol! Now get me something to eat, I'm starving."

* * *

Jhonen forgive me for butchering your characters.


	3. Voyager

Yo, Fam! Thanks for the reviews, followers, and favorites! You are awesome and I really do appreciate it if you drop a little review every now and then. German is my first language so feel free to grill me on my English mistakes. Thanks you!

* * *

Red had lied about his excitement. Fortunately, Purple seemed to buy it. Nothing about his idea to return to Irk was good, not that they had much choice otherwise with the Massive out of commission. Disappearing for three whole cycles and leaving a Planetary Conversion Specialist in charge was the most asinine, frustrating plan Purple could have thrown at him. There was just no way one specialist could handle the Massive. Still, Red bit his tongue and kept quiet. He was only half of this ruling unit and, though he had a say, Purple had always handled the delegation of duty in the Armada. He was better at public relations and communicating in general and was well liked by the population, and Red had initially resented him for it. In the beginning, Red had planned to suffocate Purple in his sleep and blame it on a PAK malfunction, furious that the Control Brains deemed him too unstable to rule alone. Or maybe just shoot him in the head. After all, it wasn't hard to stage an assassination. He abandoned the idea after their first public address, awed by Purple's eloquence and the excitement of the crowd at having a leader that came from a relatable occupation. His need for Purple only grew after the disaster of Impending Doom I, when Purple had single handedly organized relief crews to supply the battered capitol with food and temporary shelter. Their approval ratings shot up and they had become the most popular Almighty Tallest since Miyuki. From there forward, it was decided that Purple would oversee scientific advancement on Irk, delegation of duty, public relations, and social aid projects. Red would oversee major military operations, weapons manufacturing, foreign policy, and the growing economy. Together, they were an unstoppable force of collective intelligence, one running on logic and the other on emotion. Now, he couldn't imagine his life without Purple; they were always together, even if he still wanted to strangle him sometimes.

Upon returning to Irk, the two had held a private conference with their personal advisory team, alerting them to the events to come. Work was divided equally between the team and an outside specialist was temporarily assigned to the Massive, only to be relieved of his duty upon the return of the Tallest. Red had put up a little bit of a fight over Purple's choice of allocation but was silenced on the matter by a sharp kick under the table. With preparations made, they grabbed a few personal items and set out in their flagship towards Naphrus. It all still felt wrong. Leaders didn't do this; taking 'time off' made them look weak like everyone else. Purple had seen death. So what? Death happened all the time and shouldn't have been as big a deal as he made it. He always took things too seriously. But Red knew Purple was on thin ice emotionally and needed this time to overcome whatever disturbing things he had bouncing around in his head. Otherwise, he would shut down and things would really get out of hand. Red had witnessed this twice before and it had been full of yelling, heavy breathing, and an excessive amount of hysterical crying. Gross.

"Red, watch the controls! I want to be in one piece when we get there!" Purple scolded as the flagship dipped sharply.

Oh right. Red was supposed to be flying. They hadn't been gone more than two hours and Purple was already complaining. "I know how to fly, Pur." He watched Purple's brow furrow in disapproval as he shoved another donut in his mouth. "Hey, give me one of those."

Purple shrunk back at Red's request. "No. You have your own."

Red eyed the beautiful landscape below them, watching it grow denser with vegetation the further they traveled inland. "Yeah, but they're in the back. I'd have to reach behind me to get them." He paused, following the natural ridge of the land. "You know, if you felt like being nice for once, you could get them for me." He pressed, already knowing the answer.

Purple's reply was almost too hasty. "I guess you'll just have to wait." He shrugged, munching on another pastry tauntingly.

Red huffed at his friend's pointless insolence. He glanced over at him again, tempted to reach over and steal one from his bag when an idea came over him that he knew Purple would hate. Slowly, he took one hand off of the console and reached behind him to feel around under the seat. The flagship immediately veered to the right and Purple nearly choked.

"What are you doing? Keep your hands where they should be!" He demanded, clutching at his armrest.

"I know what I'm doing." Red had to stifle a laugh. This was going to be so good. "I can't find them. Hang on, I have to go back and check. Take over for a second."

Without warning, Red hoisted himself up and climbed between the seats. The flagship took a sudden nosedive, the indigo canopy of the forest rapidly coming into view. Purple screamed and threw everything out of his lap, fumbling to unclip his safety harness as donuts and crumbs flew through the cockpit. He freed himself and scrambled over the center panel, kicking on the headlights in the process. With a swift jerk Purple forced the ship to level out, stopping them a few thousand feet from the treetops. He was practically hyperventilating as Red burst out in terrible laughter behind him.

Purple sat in terrified silence. Slowly his features shifted from distress to a deadly vehemence. He slammed his fist down hard on the dash as he guided the ship back to a suitable altitude.

"I knew you were trying to kill me!" He yelled hysterically. "That's why you agreed to come out here isn't it?! You want the empire all to yourself! O-Or maybe you just want to torture me! I'm starting to think that's your purpose; to make everything harder in my life! You're fucking sadistic!" He rambled furiously, kicking and pounding things like a child. He heatedly clicked the headlights back off and continued his rant. "I never have a moment of peace with you! If you ran the Empire the same way you treat me, we'd all go insane! The whole damn planet would probably explode!"

Red couldn't help but grin as he reached over into Purple's seat, grabbing the bag and scooping up loose donuts from around them, blowing off any dust that had stuck to them. He climbed back to the front and began eating, victorious.

"I-I'm sorry!" He roared with laughter once more. "I couldn't find my snacks and I knew you wouldn't share. Lighten up, we were never in any real danger!"

"Lighten up?!" Purple frothed. "How can I lighten up when you do stuff like this?! This is _exactly_ why I don't trust you to pilot the Massive!" He gripped the controls tightly. "How were you ever a Commander in the Armada? I've seen trainees fly better than you!"

Red's amusement finally died down to a low mirth. "You know I'm a great pilot. I proved that when I got us out of the Florpus." He recapped, thoroughly enjoying his handiwork. "Plus, I knew exactly when we would hit the ground. I would have grabbed the controls before we got too close anyway."

Purple ignored Red's point and flinched at the mention of the Florpus. "Don't you dare bring that up right now!" He gave an exasperated sigh and shook his head, muttering a hot curse. "You never think, Red."

Red studied Purple's face as he stared forward, shaken up from his evildoing. He was always hilarious to watch when he was angry. The way he bristled and worked himself up into a frenzy never got old and was arguably one of Red's favorite things about him.

"You should have shared your donuts." Red harassed.

"I'm not the bad guy here!" He reached up and tapped hard at the compass on the dash. "Just shut up and sit there! I don't want you talking to me until we get to the airbase." Purple growled, tightening his jaw.

Red leaned forward so Purple could see him clearly, following his gaze when he turned away. "You don't mean that." He chuckled lightheartedly. "We both know you love me."

Purple swallowed thickly and began to squirm a little. Red knew he hated that word; love. Every time he said it, Purple was immediately reduced to an awkward silence. He was never sure why, but it always worked to diffuse the situation when they got too heated with one another.

"I said be quiet." Purple muttered. He leaned forward slightly when the airbase came quickly into view on the horizon. "Is that it?"

"I thought you wanted me to be quiet." Red mocked. A knife-like glance had him rolling his eyes. "Yeah, that's it."

He pressed his fingertips to the side window, taking in the site of his old stomping ground. It wasn't anything like he remembered. It barely looked like a base at this point. A few cycles after he left, a team of naturalists had convinced Spork to remove any military technology from the area under the guise that it was disrupting endangered wildlife. It had pissed Red off at the time, but pleased the surrounding villages, so Spork complied and moved the fleet to a neighboring city. Now the base was being reclaimed by nature, shrouded in weeds and vines. Even if it was sad, it was strangely peaceful.

"I don't see any docks." Purple squinted at the ground, hovering above the worn runway.

"I guess we'll just have to wing it." Red quickly devised a plan. He spotted a break in the forest nearby and pointed. "There's a clearing."

Purple landed them safely in the clearing, waiting for the landing gear to connect firmly with the ground before reaching up and flipping several switches. The plasma core hummed to a stop and the sounds of the ship dimmed. They were replaced with a loud cacophony of chirps and warbles resounding from the forest around them. A sudden gust of wind brushed through the bright trees and swaying vines, rustling the vibrant fauna. Somewhere in the distance a creature bellowed out a deep, lonely song.

"I don't like this already." Purple complained, still irritated.

Red pushed open the glass of the flagship and inhaled deeply. It had been so long since he had smelled the forest. It smelled so virgin and clean, unlike the smog of the capitol or the stale air of the Massive. The air here was cool and sweet, the myriad of wild plants each giving off their own distinct aroma. He slid his way down the hull to the ground, feeling the spongy soil connect with the soles of his boots. Even if he didn't like the idea of leaving the Empire in the hands of the advisory team, he couldn't deny that this was already refreshing. He probably wouldn't be able to come back here for a long while, so he might as well try to enjoy himself. In the cockpit, Purple was glued firmly in place.

"Are you getting out?" Red smiled warmly, offering up his hand to help him down.

Purple glanced rapidly around him, clearly unnerved by the new environment. He jumped when a four-winged something shot over the flagship. Immediately, he shook his head. "I don't want to."

"You don't really have an option." Red pointed out. "I promise you'll get used to it out here. You might even start to like it."

Purple wavered then grudgingly took Red's hand, allowing him to guide him down to the forest floor. He looked about him once more with wide eyes, taking in as much of the new information as he possibly could. His body language softened and he let go of Red, taking a few steps forward as curiosity flooded his senses. Red watched in delight as Purple's antennae twitched, picking up the foreign sounds of creatures scurrying through the brush and the sluggish sounds of slowly wandering plants. He slammed the glass of the flagship closed, locking it into place.

Purple tilted his head back, admiring the vivid cool hues of the sky. "It's so clear here." He breathed in awe, feeling his inhibitions slip away. "I've never seen the sky look that way."

Red kicked the storage panel on the side of the ship, popping it open. He reached in and drug out their bags, tossing them to the ground. "It's just like I remember. I used to run drills out here for troops who were going to heavily forested planets." He closed the hatch. "Just wait until night. The lights of the city are far enough away that every star in the sky will be visible."

Purple gave a short laugh, crossing over and stooping to dig through his bag. "Big deal. We've seen them all in person."

"Yeah, but it's different here." Red bent down and slung his backpack over his shoulder, adjusting the straps so he wouldn't bump his PAK. "There's something about seeing them on Irk that makes you feel small."

Purple didn't seem convinced. He frowned, as he continued to rummage through his things. "Where's my hover belt?"

"I left it back at the capitol." Red replied, getting impatient. "We can't have anything using extra power. We need to save it for our transmitters since the signal out here can get pretty weak."

Purple groaned. "You mean I have to _walk_ through that?" He pointed at the thick underbrush.

Red nodded, not seeing the issue. "It won't kill you to walk, Pur. That's why I told you to wear boots. Now get up. We have two days before our rations run out. We should make it to the research station by then." He turned to the forest. "I also want to check out the base."

With another moan, Purple straightened his back, reluctantly grabbing his bag and throwing it on. "I wish you would have just picked a city. I could be relaxing in the glowing skyline of Veloria right now."

Red led the way as they hiked the steep ridge to the tree line, leaving the ship behind. It was thicker than he had expected, but still manageable. He brushed back a few vines, feeling their thick ropy texture against his skin and noticed a well-worn metallic path cutting through the vegetation. He recognized it instantly.

"It's a good thing we're so close to the base." He took a step forward, hearing the telltale clank below. "The rest of the way won't be this easy."

Purple clung to Red as they cut through, jumping and shying away from anything he didn't recognize. Leaves curled up around them in greeting, snaking listlessly over roots and fallen branches. Warm starlight mottled the path and broke up the shadows, a welcome glow in the chilly air. Despite the feeling of it on his face, Red shivered and zipped up his thermal jacket against the persistent cold. Suddenly, an alarmed shriek broke the peace and Purple's grip on Red grew painfully tight.

"Red, something's on me!" Purple screeched, freezing in place.

Aggravated, Red glanced behind him. A singular petal from a flowering tree had cascaded down, landing delicately on Purple's sleeve.

"For someone so tall, you sure are afraid of everything." Red grumbled, blowing the petal away.

Purple looked up at the tree, realized his mistake, and frowned. "I'm not afraid!" He let go and took the lead, puffing out his chest. "Are you coming or what?"

Red followed without arguing, afraid that his companion may never shut up if he did. It wasn't long before they had broken free from the little strip of forest, exiting into the wide expanse of the deserted airbase.

"So, this is where you used to cause trouble?" Purple had crossed the landing pad, calling back to Red as he continued to put distance between them.

Red didn't move. He could almost hear the scream of Spittle Runners streaking through the air and the sonic boom of heavy Viral Tanks practicing flight formations, each sound a ghost in his memory. He looked down at his feet, admiring the gargantuan Irken emblem painted on the rusted metal, almost completely worn away with age. So many recollections bubbled up in his PAK as he followed Purple to the decrepit flight station, triggering images to appear in his ocular implants. Whole formations of pilots trained out in the open, sticky with sweat but fierce with determination to be on top of their class. Obsolete Voot Runners were parked neatly along the far strip, being tended by field mechanics. Communications officers ducked in and out of the main station, running transmissions promptly to and from their superiors. The visions soon faded, and the reality of the now corroded station now came back into view.

"This place is creepy." Purple breathed when they reached the dented main door. "Why didn't they tear it down?" Broken glass was scattered at their feet and the metal creaked with every slight breeze.

Red fiddled with the door panel. The computer had long since died away. "Spork thought it would be better if we left it to be taken back by nature. Something about there being less destruction to the existing ecosystem." With a great heave, he pried the doors open, holding them fast so Purple could step through. When he released them, they slammed shut, leaving the two in a long, indistinct passage. "I wish they would have had enough respect to destroy it. We were pulled out too fast and had to leave a lot behind. I guess a group of salvagers came in and gutted all of the equipment that wasn't taken."

Purple's eyes lit up as he explored. "It's all so old! Smeets created today wouldn't know what to do with any of this." He kicked aside a rotted manual to an old planetary cannon. Suddenly, he gasped and spun on his heel. "Show me your old office!"

Red was taken aback by Purple's sudden eagerness. That wasn't something he necessarily wanted to relive.

"We can't have come all this way to not see it." Purple threw his hands on his hips. "You've always been so elusive about this place. Why can't I see it for myself?"

Red couldn't find a suitable counter-argument. He blinked slowly, looking over Purple's confident stance then averting his gaze back down the hallway. Finally, he nodded. Purple gave a small chirp of victory and the two and began leisurely along the soiled, desolate corridor, testing their footing as they went.

Red coughed at the moldy smell, reaching up and covering his mouth with his sleeve. "Irk, this is so messed up. This place used to be spotless." He could almost taste the filth.

Tiny, many legged creatures darted in and out of holes they had chewed through the walls and most of the doors had been kicked in by the illegal salvage team, laying haphazardly about. Vines hung from worn holes in the ceiling, allowing eerie light to pour through at irregular intervals to cast ominous glares against the bowing metal of the walls and crooked picture frames. A few discarded plasma pistol casings lay here and there, begging to be picked up and repaired. Red's office had been at the far end of the hallway and was in a pretty dire state from what he could see. He rested a hand against the doorframe and peered in, not quite sure what he'd find left. He coughed again at the dust filtering in and out of the large broken window in the back, waving a hand in attempts of clearing it to little avail. A sturdy tree had poked it's way up through the window, branches pushing up against the mottled celling and shedding a thick carpet of leaves over the grimy floor. His desk was gone, but that was to be expected, and loose wiring hung dangerously from broken panels in the walls. It was strange looking back at where his career had begun, and the trivial room didn't come close in comparison to what he used now.

Purple poked in through the doorway, a small smile on his face. It faded quickly when he saw the sorry, uninteresting state the room had been left in. "There's nothing here?" He questioned, a little let down.

"What'd you expect?" Red retorted, stepping carefully over a fallen branch. "I can't believe how…small it is. I used to think it was huge." A thought popped in his head and he thought a moment, trying to remember a few crucial details from his time spent here. "I think..." he paused, glancing from wall to wall. "Is it still here?"

Purple cocked his head in confusion as Red reached up and began tapping along the top of the wall, listening closely for a shift in the sound. To his surprise, he tapped over what sounded like a hollow pit, curling his fingers up under a crack in one of the panels. He struggled to peel it back, working it gingerly out of place until the brittle metal snapped in half, nearly hitting him upside the jaw. Red tossed it aside and revealed a decent sized compartment that wound it's way up into the framework.

"Those bastards didn't find it!" Red exclaimed in surprise, standing on his toes and reaching deep into the cavernous opening. He felt around before tugging out a large box, wiping the dust from the casing with his jacket sleeve.

It looked strange, unlike any Irken technology Purple had seen before. It was black, chunky, and rugged, with a long needle attached to a moveable arm poking out of the side. A beautiful, golden disk-shaped object sat in the center. There was what looked like a switch on the side with an engraving that said _Voyager**_ in an alien language. Purple ran the word over in his head, not quite sure how to pronounce it. He'd seen the language before, but his PAK struggled to accurately translate it's meaning.

Red was overflowing with excitement. "It's called a Voyager. It was given to me by a buddy from the academy after I was promoted. He found it floating in space on some kind of abandoned alien ship." He ran his hand over the disk. A label etched in the top read _Sounds of Earth, _accompanied by two oddly shaped figures. "I think it's from the planet that idiot, Zim, ended up on."

"What exactly is a Vo-ya-ger?" Purple sounded out the word, examining the box but afraid to touch it. "It doesn't hurt, right?"

"Hang on, I'll show you! I hope it still works." Red crouched down and brushed a soggy pile of leaves out of the way, gingerly placing the Voyager on the cold floor. He fiddled with it, flipping the switch a few times. Nothing happened. He smacked it on the side, hoping it would kick on. Still nothing. Frustrated, he gave a huff. "It must be broken. It was really awesome, too." He shrugged, disappointed.

Purple crouched down with him, looking over the box. "Can I see it?"

Red slid it over, watching as Purple as he tenderly took the switch, pressing it lightly back into it's socket and jiggling it a few times. A small red light flickered to life on the side of the box and Red beamed as the disk began to slowly spin.

"What did you do to it?" Red exclaimed, watching his former prized possession take on a newfound vigor.

Purple flashed him a knowing smile. "You know that broken switch in our bedroom that calls the bridge? It does the same thing all the time. How do you think it always ends up fixed?" His eyes sparkled, proud that he knew something Red didn't.

Red had always thought that switch just fixed itself. Leave it to Purple to figure it out; he always had his hands in their technology, dissecting it to learn how it worked. He eagerly returned to the Voyager, taking the needle and placing it along one of the many shallow grooves. What followed was foreign, raw, and beautiful. Sounds from another world floated through the crisp air as voices from many unknown languages rang out happily from the disk. Red's PAK translated them instantaneously, each one ringing out a clear, chipper greeting in his head.

"Hello from the United States of America! Hello from the People's Republic of China! Hello from the Federal Republic of Germany!" The voices continued rattling off unknown destinations. Red wasn't sure where these odd sounding places were, and he didn't care. It was what followed that he was excited for.

Purple was in awe as he listened to these never before heard noises. Then, the disk took a different direction. Creatures called and chirped, beings laughed together over pointless jokes, music thumped to steady, melodious beats. They weren't unlike the sounds he'd heard on Irk or Vort or any of the unique worlds he'd traveled to. The music, however, was completely unique with instruments and tones that varied so greatly he could barely comprehend it. They ebbed and flowed with intensity and style, some loud and boisterous, and others soft and serene.

"Do you like it?" Red looked back up from the disk, wanting approval.

All Purple could do was nod, moved from the beauty and overwhelmed by the sensation it brought. It made him shudder with anticipation as to what else could possibly be hidden within the depths of the alien device.

"I do have a favorite on here." Red helped the disk along the needle, speeding up the sounds as he searched for something specific, careful not to scratch it. "I used to listen to it all the time when I worked." Finally, he stopped on something. A foreign voice rang out once more.

"This next piece we decided to include comes from Johann Sebastian Bach and is called Gavotte en Rondeaux Partita, number three, in E major." A calm male voice explained.

Purple scrunched up his face as the disk went silent once more. "I don't know what any of that means."

Red gave a harsh shush from the floor. He stood as music began pouring from the disk once more, a gorgeous, round symphony of different haunting instruments brought together to form a delicate and refined statement piece. Even now, this particular piece touched him in a way that he didn't think possible, eliciting intense emotions from deep inside his psyche. Purple stood as well, jaw slack and antennae stiff to the immaculate sound. He swayed slightly and closed his eyes, allowing himself to become lost in the wordless story he was experiencing. Red was so happy he could share this with Purple. He'd long since forgotten about it, but the sentiment that overcame him brought him back to better times when he felt at his prime.

Purple slowly opened his eyes. "Do you want to dance?" He asked without warning, his voice wavering with slight hesitation. He shifted his weight nervously to the tune. "It's been a while since we've done it." He shed his backpack to the ground and turned expectantly to Red.

Not this again. It wasn't the first time Purple had asked him to do something so ridiculous, but it still shocked Red every time. "Oh, eh…no." He never knew what prompted his co-leader to such strange requests.

"Come, on. It won't be like the last time." Purple took a step closer, his voice small but forceful. "There's no one here to watch, so you don't have to be embarrassed. I just…really like this sound. And if I dance by myself, I'll feel weird."

Red stared down at the disk, a scowl on his face. "I don't think so, Pur-" He was cut off as he felt a hand land lightly on his shoulder, helping him to slip off his bag. He really wasn't giving him a choice, was he?

Purple grinned in delight when Red looked away but decided to humor him despite his protest, allowing his bag to be discarded to the side. Sure, he and Purple were close, but every time he asked Red to do something like this, he never got used to it. Dancing with another male was bizarre and he never knew where it was appropriate to put his hands, mulling it over hastily when Purple's hand ended back up on his shoulder. Purple must have sensed his discomfort and reached down with his free hand, guiding Red's to the small of his back before taking his other hand in his. He all but forced Red to entwine their fingers, satisfied when he didn't fight back.

"Irk, you're so weird." Red said through his teeth, the touch foreign under his palm. Purple knew he wouldn't refuse, using their friendship against him. They took a few slow steps in unison, following the trill of the music and the dynamic of one another.

"You should be happy I'm letting you lead this time." Purple chuckled, relaxing into Red's movements.

Red sighed, trying to keep the tempo as best as he could while maintaining as much distance as possible between them. "Hopefully it's the last time you force me to do something this dumb." He could feel Purple's amused eyes watching him but couldn't meet them.

After finding a good rhythm, Red relaxed as well, allowing himself to guide his partner gracefully around the singing Voyager. With each step, Purple sneakily closed the gap between them, enjoying Red's growls of displeasure but knowing he wouldn't do anything about it. Wait for it….Purple leaned in and rested his head against Red's shoulder…there it was. They ended up in this position every time they danced together and Red hated how predicable Purple was. He always got caught up in the moment and did annoying little affectionate things that made Red want to throw up in his mouth. He had done things like this their entire friendship and Red personally despised them, but reluctantly let them happen to avoid a fight. Purple was the touchy-feely kind and Red was halfway convinced that if he wasn't allowed to have physical contact with something, he would implode in upon himself. Besides, it did reinforce how close their friendship actually was, and that made Red happy. Other beings usually shied away from him out of fear or mutual respect for his personal space, but Purple and his awful lack of inhibitions constantly forced him out of his comfort zone. Sometimes he was sure it was just to bother him.

"Why don't we host anything on Irk anymore, Red?" The words rolled lazily off of Purple's tongue as he closed his eyes to the music, resting more of his weight on his partner. "We could dance like this more often, then."

Red held his breath, not sure how to feel at the growing contact. "No. You know we're too busy for that." He became painfully aware of Purple's unbearable body heat, but was afraid to move his hands. "We aren't in peaceful times anymore. We have more important things to worry about than," he swallowed his disgust, "dancing together."

Purple smiled softly and snaked his arm around the back of Red's neck to his other shoulder, capturing him completely in his soft grasp. "But I miss having big parties. Other empires still have them, so why can't we?" He shifted slightly, resting his chin on Red's shoulder.

"I said no." Red felt stiff in Purple's grasp as his breath ghosted warmly against his neck. Red shouted profanities in his head, fighting to keep his irritation at bay and secretly wanting the music to stop. He cleared his throat. "You're also choking me."

Purple didn't seem to care. He held firm, caught up in the sound and the repetition of their gentle movements. He tightened his grip on Red's fingers, as though afraid he would lose them if he let go. He moved a tiny bit closer, if that was even possible, closing whatever miniscule distance Red had been using as a safety cushion. Red began to feel claustrophobic, almost like he was suffocating. Now he was positive this was just to torture him. Maybe this was payback for scaring Purple in the ship earlier. Whatever it was, Purple was loving every moment of it and Red hated it.

The music finally slowed down and Red guided Purple through a final pained flourish, ready to release him and get on with their hike. Purple didn't budge, holding Red in the same position for longer than he felt was necessary, his firm grip on his shoulder becoming increasingly awkward. Red grumbled something under his breath and Purple released his fingers, reached up, and patted him on the side of the face condescendingly.

He giggled lightly, pulling back to look him in the eye. "You still suck at dancing."

Red pushed him away, a little harder than he had originally anticipated. "I really don't understand you." He bent down and removed the needle from the Voyager before clicking it off. "We'll have to come back for this when we return to the ship." He carefully slid the box back into the compartment in the wall, replacing the metal to keep it safe. He brushed at his clothes, attempting to get rid of the feeling of Purple pressed against him. "We need to get going. Being in here and seeing all this old rusted junk is making me sad."

Purple nodded, scooping up his things and tossing Red his. They left the office behind in silence, venturing back out into the wilderness.

* * *

**Voyager 1: A historical probe launched into space from Earth in 1977. A golden disk and record box were attached to it detailing the location of Earth as well as recordings of people, animals, natural sounds, and music just in case any intelligent life may happen upon it. Pictures were also encoded into the disc. Neat! I've always thought it would be kind of funny if the Tallest ended up with it.

Red is painfully unaware of what is happening and I even cringed a little writing it.

Please leave a review if you'd like. I appreciate your face!


	4. You Were Right

**Update:** Chapter three has been fleshed out a LOT more than what it originally was. The plot doesn't change, the details are just deeper and give more intimate insight. I originally wrote it at four in the morning in an airport coming back from a vacation in Russia, so I wanted to go back and really re-work it now that I'm not running on three hours of sleep. Now it feels more like I wanted it to. If you're interested feel free to read it. Also, thank you for all of you viewers around the world! I love you all, wonderful freaks.

Also, this is rated M for violence and adult themes. There is violence coming in the next few chapters. Not sure I ever disclosed that. Everything I write always ends up with violence. I must be a sadistic fuck.

* * *

They had walked until they were weak from hunger, deciding to stop and set up camp for the night. Fortunately, they had made great time and were nearly to the research facility, only needing to spare a few hours of daylight in the morning to make it the rest of the way. The ground had been sticky with some unknown natural substance, so Red had suggested they string up the sturdy hammock they brought. They told each other jokes to break up the monotony and laughed in the darkness as they worked blindly, stumbling over things and only amusing each other further. Finally, and quite haphazardly, they had managed to string up the strong fabric and climb into it, swaying gently together in the frigid darkness. Despite the near icy weather, creatures still hummed and buzzed in the gloom, skittering about and crunching through the brush below them, adding to the eerie ambiance of the woodland.

Since they had left the Voyager behind, Purple was desperate to go back and replay the scene again, imagining what it would have been like if he and Red were actually a couple. He craved Red like a drug and would feel himself slip into withdrawal when he couldn't touch him. It was so wrong in so many ways. Purple had become painfully aware of how twisted their one-sided relationship was secretly becoming, and he felt a great deal of indignity for using Red against his knowledge to fulfil his own cravings for an intimacy they could never have together. It made him feel filthy. He had already gone too far today, forcing Red to dance with him despite his wishes and running his hands over him without his consent. He had loved every moment of it when it happened, allowing himself to get lost in the gooey feeling of venerability, but it was only after the fact that he realized how dangerous his actions had been for them both. What if Red had begun to suspect something? He'd surely give Purple up to the Control Brains for fear that his diseased mind and PAK would taint the future and image of the Empire. That's what he was. A disease. Even worse, what if someone else had been hiking nearby and stumbled upon them pressed together, Purple grabbing at Red like he was the last bag of chips at the snack bar? He could get Red killed. As far as Red knew, the touching was just a cruel joke to get back at him and embarrass him for his immature actions in the ship, but Purple knew the truth and it made him sick to his stomach. The fact that he was so oblivious to his affections only made it worse. Unfortunately, he had to stay oblivious. Purple's very existence and future as one half of the Tallest was on the line.

He could remember having to attend a mandatory government approved seminar about companionship back when he was still in the Academy training to become a mechanic. It was highly encouraged for opposite sexed Irkens to seek each other out to satisfy the need for physical and emotional fulfillment in a society that was generally rigid and overly structured. It kept them from shutting down mentally, something the Empire couldn't afford. There had been a brief side note about the off-chance of same-sex feelings occurring in their society, and these were deeply discouraged. It was considered unnatural, and Irkens with these thoughts were either committed to re-encoding, remedial conditioning, or deletion, should they fail to correct the error of their ways. At the time, Purple had been terrified out of his mind. He still was, but as a young male he panicked, resigning to the fact that he would either have to fake a relationship with a female or pretend that he hadn't found one yet. In the past hundred cycles, the Control Brains had cracked down further on the advancement of the social hierarchy of Irken society as the Empire expanded, detailing how it should be ruled for optimal success in the universal playing field. In the event the hatcheries were destroyed, a possibility in times of war, couples would be expected to reproduce manually to preserve the steady numbers of the population. This fallback did not include Irkens like Purple. He was expected to find a _she_, not a _he_. The Florpus had only further complicated things, putting him on a razor's edge emotionally. He was the one who had argued with the navigator on the Massive, putting the idea in Red's head not to course correct to avoid their fate. He had almost gotten Red killed. It was Purple's fault they had gone through so much agony and suffering. It was his fault the Massive was nearly destroyed. He had closed the hatch to the bridge, sealing the doomed crew to choke to death on the lack of atmosphere. It all only made him feel worse about himself. He regretted so many things that he couldn't take back, and he felt like they would eat him alive if he couldn't keep them pushed down.

Red dipped his hand below them, rocking the hammock as he fumbled with the clasp on his bag. Somehow, he managed to undo it and dig out his transmitter and a few bags of chips, repositioning himself next to Purple and trying to get comfortable before popping one open. Purple was exhausted, deciding to swallow his fears and rest for a change, enjoying the feeling of Red's arm against his. Red clicked on the device, and the light of the screen blinded them both, pulling up an alarming number of notices they had somehow missed on their trek. They silently scrolled through the already extensive list of paperwork their advisory team had forwarded from their observations over the Armada, growing frustrated with their lack of concise decision making. Most of them were trivial decisions and supply requests from invaders scattered throughout the cosmos, things they could deal with in the morning.

Purple squinted at the screen and clicked what looked like a request to initiate war. That couldn't be a good sign. The recording sounded overly formal and robotic, coming directly from the specialist, Pem, they had left in charge. "My Tallest, I apologize for contacting you so early into your trip. There has been an interesting development concerning the terrorist union known as the Resisty. We have gained intelligence that Lard Nar has been regathering rebel forces outside the planet Conventia and his growing numbers are suspicious and concerning to the safety of the Empire. We have also received intelligence that this growing resistance has sparked another round of Vortian prison riots on Moo-Ping 10, where three Irken fatalities have been reported. We are investigating this further and we have reason to believe that these two events are connected. As acting officer aboard the Massive, I would like to request permission to pursue the Resisty with the use of deadly force. As I speak, the Armada has been instructed to orbit the planet to disrupt any further communications from the enemy warship. We must silence this movement before it gains any more traction and creates further issues for the Empire."

Red paused the transmission and the two lit up at the same time, meeting each other's gaze with the same stupid look of excited anticipation. Purple couldn't help but giggle at the sparkle in Red's eyes, knowing he hadn't had an interesting military campaign in a while. How messed up did they have to be to get excited over destruction?

"You know what I wanna do?" Red's whisper dripped with cruel delight. He'd been waiting for an opportunity to retaliate against the Resisty for a while and he wasn't about to give up this absolutely delicious chance to make them hurt.

Purple propped himself up on his elbow. "What?" He dragged the word out, following Red's vicious mindset. "You wanna,-" he nudged Red almost too playfully, "-blow them up yourself?"

Red gripped the transmitter, nearly losing himself at the thought. "You bet your ass I do!" He hissed in the darkness. "I'm not letting some specialist take this from me. This one is personal." He hadn't forgotten the damage Lard Nar and his crew had caused to the Massive and his reputation in the past, and they had been on his radar to murder ever since.

Purple bit his lip to keep from laughing too loud, afraid something unseen in the darkness might hear them. He watched in childlike expectancy as Red pulled up the flight plan to Conventia, each of the powerful ships in their beautiful Armada appearing as a tiny glowing dot on the screen. He shoved a few chips in his mouth. They were incredibly close to the hidden location of the Resisty's battleship tucked carefully in the docking station ringing the planet. They would never stand a chance against the power of the Irken Armada. It was all so delectably devious, fulfilling their joint desire for absolute power.

"Let's see…" Red swallowed and pulled the schematic of the planet from the screen, projecting a 3D model of it into the air above them. He reached up and spun the great orb on its axis with the flick of his wrist, contemplating which weapon would cause the most damage to the heavily armored ship. "Lard Nar is Vortian, if I remember. I want to destroy him with his own technology. I want him to see it coming and know his own people indirectly caused his downfall."

Purple whistled at the steely desire in Red's tone. "That's just wrong, Red." He jested, his voice also laced with whimsy.

"Which do you think would be worse?" Red touched one of the slowly progressing dots on the map, blowing up a model of an Irken Stinger Class Shuuver. "A fleet of Shuuver or," he pulled up another sleek model, "my favorite; the Ring Cutter?" Both had been designed by Vortian engineers and both were equally as deadly.

Purple gestured up at the model, leaning back down to watch Red in his element. "It's up to you, Commander." He grinned, wanting Red to take the credit.

Red puffed up under the pet name and narrowed his eyes, quickly making his decision. "Good answer, Pur. Ring Cutter it is." Old habits must die hard.

He double tapped the small but powerful fleet of Ring Cutters orbiting the planet, opening up a direct line of communication with the lead pilot of the formation, as well as sending through a recording to Specialist Pem. There was static as the weak signal of the far-off research station strained to patch them through. Finally, the pilot appeared, overshadowing the model above them.

"My Tallest!" The pilot saluted with his antennae. He squinted at his screen, observing them closely with a surprised blink. "Forgive me, sirs, but it is strange to see you out of your uniforms."

Red cleared his throat, putting on an air of electric confidence that Purple loved. "That is beside the point, pilot. I'm activating you for duty. We have received a report from the temporary head of the Armada that the," he cringed at the stupid name, "_Resisty_ has been causing trouble in the region. Is this correct?"

The pilot gave a curt nod. "Yes, sirs. They have attempted unsuccessfully to overtake an education vessel for pilots in training, forcing them to dock and seek shelter on the surface of Conventia. There have been no other reports of physical disruptions in the area." He took a breath and continued. "Specialist Pem sent out an emergency notice to the fleet to be on high alert. The Resisty is currently docked inside Conventia's transport station and we have been tasked to orbit the planet to scramble further communication signals exchanged between the terrorist, Lard Nar, and outside rebel factions. It appears they were attempting to contact someone on Irk, but the signal was lost before we could effectively trace it."

Red gave a slow nod, unimpressed by Specialist Pem's decision to merely orbit when he had all of this heavy technology at his disposal. "I am overriding the decision to orbit." He stated firmly. "I am sending you and your formation of Ring Cutters in to mount a counter-strike on Lard Nar and his crew. I authorize the use of deadly force. Is that clear?"

The pilot saluted once more. "Understood, sirs." The video feed switched from the pilot's internal screen to the system mounted on the outside left of his ship.

The two listened intently as the pilot instructed his team into formation. Three dots veered off from their original flightpath and made a mad dash for the docking station. Red leaned back in the hammock and crossed his arms behind his head, waiting for the carnage to begin.

"Ring One, checking in."

"Ring Two, checking in."

"Ring Three, checking in."

The two watched the video feed closely as the head pilot took the forefront of the formation, guiding the others skillfully into place. The Resisty's ship came into clear view as the fleet encroached rapidly upon the docking station.

"This is it! We have direct orders from our Tallest to use deadly force!" The pilot barked into his headset. "Light 'em up!"

The first plasma shot rang out, flashing bright electric blue on the screen. It connected directly with its target, knocking the heavy ship loose from its docking port. It plummeted, thrusters firing up without a moment to spare. Lard Nar took his only option and veered sharply towards the surface of Conventia, his ship shuddering with a thunderous boom as they broke the thick atmosphere.

"Do us proud, boys!" Red chimed in over the commotion as the formation gave chase, surrounding the ship and bombarding it with continuous heavy fire.

"Yes, my Tallest!" Another, higher voice rang out with pride. Ring Three shot forward, landing a damning blow to one of the thrusters of the crude ship, effectively crippling it.

"Woah. That didn't last long." Purple breathed, eyes glued to the screen as a chain reaction of internal explosions was triggered within the ship. It was actually kind of heartbreaking to see the backbone of the ship snap cleanly in half, the two flaming pieces careening to the surface of the planet and sending contrails in their wake. Rough debris were scattered through the scene and several escape pods ejected from the mangled cockpit but appeared to malfunction, falling behind the wreckage to the surface. There would be survivors.

The look on Red's face was revolting and dark, a smug smile forming as he watched his enemies fall to their death. Purple shoved another chip in his mouth when he cocked his head to the side, accidentally brushing their antennae together. "And this," he said in between chews, "is what I call a vacation."

Cheers sounded over the video feed and Purple watched the three dots return to their original orbit, falling in line with the Armada.

"I see a promotion in your future, pilot." Red praised, proud of the swift competence his team had displayed. "Dispatch an intelligence team to the surface. Any remaining survivors will be taken as prisoners, interrogated and will stand trial on Irk for their crimes against the Empire. Search the wreckage for any information and remove any communications technology. I want to know who they were contacting on Irk. I expect a full report of your findings as soon as possible."

"Thank you, sirs!" The pilot's face reappeared on the screen, swelling with pride at Red's words. "I won't let you down, sirs!"

"Good. Get to it." Red didn't wait for him to respond. He reached up and waved the video feed on, dragging the planetary model back down into his transmitter before clicking it off. He tossed it back down to his backpack and ran his cool hands over his face. All of a sudden, he yelled a victory cry into the night, scattering a flock of trilling creatures that had been nesting above them. "Irk, that was so damn satisfying! I wish I was there! I wanted to see that Vortian bastard burn!" He laughed, lost in his heartless instinct and itching to do more.

Purple's antennae picked up the residual scent of adrenaline pouring off of Red. The smell was domineering and racy, overpowering his senses.

_Damn, Red_. Purple thought to himself, amused. _Get over yourself_.

Still, he couldn't help but smile at the animalistic heat he was giving off. Red loved this way too much and was exceedingly good at it.

"Don't yell! Ugh, you're sweating." Purple toyed, pretending to be appalled. He finished off the bag of chips and crumpled it up, tossing it over the side of the hammock. "You really get off on this."

Red ignored him, unzipping the front of his jacket so he could breathe. He furrowed his brow and his frenzied scent slowly cooled to a manageable level, returning him ever so slowly to his senses. Purple watched him closely, knowing that look all too well. He was overanalyzing things again.

"Something's wrong. What is it?" He asked plainly, trying to prompt Red to voice his ideas out loud. "What else is there for you to do? You already shot him down. It's over."

Red shook his head, shifting his body to face Purple. "It could be nothing," he began slowly, "but who were they trying to contact? That pilot said they were trying to hail someone on Irk."

"Who cares?" Purple yawned. "I'm tired and I don't want to think about it right now. And neither do you." He added, hoping that he could cut this rapidly escalating idea off at the heels. "Seriously, Pem probably already got your transmission so let it be his problem for now. We can deal with it in the morning."

"_Pem_." Red spat suddenly. "I knew he was a bad idea to put in charge. But you just _had_ to have him."

Purple sighed, not wanting to give Red the satisfaction. "You signed the transfer papers, too." He reminded casually.

"Only because you wouldn't let us leave until I did." Red quickly retorted. "The guy is a complete idiot. He could have had this done and over with hours ago."

Purple felt the battery in his PAK kick into power-saver mode. "But then you wouldn't have gotten to play Mr. High-And-Mighty and shoot them down." He yawned again, hoping Red would shut up. "Honestly, Red, can't you just go to sleep?"

Red still wasn't completely satisfied. There was something on his mind that was bothering him, and Purple was too tired to deal with it right now. The two stared up at the sky, dotted with millions of brightly shining stars glimmering invitingly through the treetops. Out here, even Irk's ring was visible. Purple could feel himself drifting but was called back when Red spoke up once more.

Red licked his lips and took a deep breath. "I never told you but…I'm happy the Control Brains picked you." He rattled off completely out of the blue, catching Purple totally off guard and breaking the peace.

"Oh…" Purple glanced awkwardly to the side. "Thank you?" He wasn't sure how to adequately respond. This wasn't like Red at all, unless he had an ulterior motive. "What prompted that?"

Red shrugged. "I don't know. I've just been thinking about how stressed you've been lately and we're out here alone." He struggled to understand how to approach the subject. "I'm…not good with feelings."

There was an awkward silence.

"Um," Purple began, trying to rationalize where this seemingly dead-end conversation was actually going. "I know you're not." Smooth, Purple. Real smooth.

More silence.

"I just," Red took a deep breath and exhaled heavily, "I don't know if I could do all of this without you."

"Do what?"

"I don't know. Life? When we met, I was honestly on a crash course to my own destruction."

"I remember."

Red thought a second. "I also know how hard it is for you to talk about things that bother you. I want you to be able to trust me completely, so I thought I would tell you a secret I've had for a long time." He gave Purple a serious look. "No one knows this, and you can't tell anyone."

Purple shifted, uneasy with the sudden weight of the mood. Venerability wasn't Red's thing and he could feel the great deal of effort it was taking for him to voice whatever it was he wanted to say. "Red, you don't have to-"

"You have to promise. This could break me."

"I promise."

Red crossed his arms across his chest, still unsure of what he was doing. But, if being venerable with Purple would maybe get him to open up about the Florpus, or whatever else was causing him emotional distress, it would be worth it in the end. Then they could finally move on with their lives and leave this whole charade behind.

"So…"

"So?"

"I…uh…"

Purple rolled his eyes and slumped back down in the hammock. "I'm not forcing you to say anything if you don't want to. You obviously don't want to tell me."

"No, no! That's not it." Red stiffened. "I want to break down whatever walls are still left between us. I mean, you've known me forever and I just want you to feel like you can talk to me, you know? And," he couldn't believe he was saying this, "if I expect you to talk, then you should know everything about me too. Even the things I keep hidden."

Purple's brief irritation faded. He gave Red a soft smile, trying to make him feel less uneasy. "That means a lot, Red." He said sympathetically. "Just tell me what it is. I'm sure it can't be that bad. I already know about all of your campaigns and those were pretty brutal." He gave a nervous chuckle, honestly afraid of what could be worse than that.

Red studied Purple's face, making completely sure that he could be trusted. Of course he could; they were basically two halves of the same Irken. He took a deep breath. "Ok. I don't really know where to begin." He said a little too unenthusiastically as the weight of the conversation at hand began to settle.

Purple waited as patiently as he could. "Well, begin somewhere, because my PAK needs to recharge." He gave another yawn, trying to fight back the urge to snuggle in against his friend's shoulder.

Red stared down at his hands on his chest, weaving his fingers together. "I…used to have an addiction." He muttered. He had kept it to himself for so long it was strange hearing it actually come out of his own mouth.

"What?" Purple's voice came out with more shock than he was anticipating and Red shifted uncomfortably, shying away with a tiny laugh. "Don't joke about things like that." He willed his voice to stay even.

Red clicked his teeth together, still unsure how much he actually wanted to say. "Don't judge me. It's kind of a long story."

Oh, Irk. He was serious? "Whatever you've done, it's ok. Just tell me."

Red blinked and took another deep, shaky breath as he willed himself back into the talk he had hoped he would never have to have. "So, you know how our PAKs feed us sedatives when we've experienced trauma?" His scrunched up his face, waiting for Purple to absorb the information.

"Yes."

"I…used to take advantage of that."

"What do you mean, 'take advantage' of it?"

Red groaned and ran his hands up over his face. What was he doing? "I would come back from missions and I couldn't forget what I saw and I couldn't sleep so I would cause myself pain so my PAK would sedate me." He said all at once. "I-I just couldn't handle it anymore."

Purple blinked in surprise, not sure he completely understood what he had heard. Maybe he just didn't want to. He was moved to stunned silence as a pang of concern hit him. When had all of this happened? The idea of Red harming himself for a high scared him but he couldn't force it away.

"Ok..." He said slowly, blinking a few more times before frowning. This was a lot of information to take in. What do you say to something like that?

"Don't look at me like that!" Red snapped hotly.

"I-I'm not…look at you like what?" Purple stuttered, feeling Red throw his guard back up.

Red tore his eyes away. "Like there's something _wrong_ with me. I don't do it anymore. I got over it before I became Tallest." He threw his words around gracelessly, physically unable to process the emotions he was feeling and resorting to anger instead.

There was another long silence between them. Did that mean Red was like this when Purple had met him? Had he just never noticed? But he always seemed so confident and put together. There was no way the handsome Commander he half-stalked on the Massive had been a drug addict. It just wasn't possible. Purple didn't know what to do. He had never expected something like this from Red. He was the logical one, the strong one. The thought of him being anything other than that was foreign. But he couldn't just leave it at that. He had to break the silence. He had to know.

"Um…H-how often?" He asked tentatively, waiting for Red to cool off.

"At my best, once a week. At my worst, every night." Red sighed. He was too far along now to take it back so he might as well talk. "I didn't have to think when I was high. There was no more pressure or responsibility. It took away the bad taste in my mouth. I'm not exactly a good Irken, Pur."

"Shut up. Don't you ever say that again." Purple scolded softly, forcing a comforting smile through his distress. "You're the best Irken I know. Even if you are an asshole."

The corners of Red's mouth twitched, and a small smile formed on his face before disappearing all together. "There was a moment that I lost control and took it too far. It was so weird. I kept needing more and more to numb myself, and nothing ever felt like it was enough. It had become more than a way to forget."

"Tell me."

Red pursed his lips. "I started getting paranoid and it was affecting my job. I had just received my promotion to Spork's right hand but there was talk he was going to send me back to Naphrus, but I'm not even sure that was true. I could have made it all up in my head and I vaguely remember everything running together. I couldn't make critical decisions on my own anymore and my team began to notice. They had suggested I take time off, but I never did." He exhaled, feeling a bit of the weight fall away with his warm breath and out into the night.

Purple vaguely remembered some of this happening, and saw brief flashes of Red's hospital room when he reluctantly went to visit. He tried to keep up with Red as best as he could back then, but only caught bits of information that trickled down through the long social circle above him choosing to keep to his own rather than pursue it further. He listened intently and Red continued on with his damming tale.

He cringed at the memories and gave a nervous laugh, trying to push away the darkness of his past as it crept up around the hammock to consume them. "One day it just broke me. I'm not really sure why or what triggered it but I couldn't handle the pressure I had put on myself. I overdosed in the middle of my quarters and one of my advisors found me on the floor. I don't know if you remember when that happened. I don't even really remember."

Purple's throat felt dry. "You mean you," he could hardly bring himself to say it, let alone think it. "You tried to _kill_ yourself?" Almost immediately, the gravity of the situation overtook him and he felt his eyes grow bleary, fogging his vision. Red had almost committed suicide and he had never known? The Commander he went and visited that day in his hospital bed, claiming that it had been a PAK defect, had almost taken his own life? It took everything in him not to grab Red and squeeze him to exorcise the past and drag him back to the future and away from that horrible place always lingering in the back of his mind.

Red should have never said anything, feeling partially responsible for the agonizing look on his friend's face. "Don't be that way, Pur. You're going to make me feel guilty."

Purple sniffed and hastily wiped his eyes on the back of his sleeve. "That time you ended up in the sick bay…that's why?" He could remember the feverish conversations amongst the dock crew. There were rumors at the time that a rebel group had poisoned Red. Others didn't know what to think. He never would have thought in a million cycles that it was a suicide attempt.

"That's why. I blamed it on a malfunction, and everyone bought it. Awful, right?" He chuckled again, but there was no warmth to the sound. "I never told anyone what really happened. That was the worst come-down I've ever had to go through and I was so disappointed in myself for thinking all my problems would go away if I died. I haven't used since. I got better over time and went back to work. The rest is history."

Purple felt terrible. "I can't believe I never noticed. I know we weren't really around each other much, but if I had known…" Maybe things would have been different for them. Maybe Red wouldn't have felt so alone.

"It's not your fault. There really wasn't anything you could have done." Red's stiff posture relaxed but only a bit. "But I wanted to tell you because…I think about it sometimes."

"About what? Using again?"

Red only shrugged and Purple couldn't help but feel a little frightened. "They say once an addict, always an addict. You never really recover. You just kind of move on, but it's always hovering over your head no matter what you do or where you go."

"Look at me." Red hesitated and Purple reached over, lightly taking his jaw in his hand and turning him gingerly to face him. "I said, look at me, Red."

"Pur, don't lecture me, I don't need that from you." Red groaned.

"Be quiet." Purple's voice wasn't harsh. It was soft and loving, everything he was sure Red needed back then but never got. Even if it was a little late, he was going to support him now. "I'm messed up too in ways you can't imagine. We all are. Just because we're Tallest doesn't mean we have to be perfect, and the Control Brains know that. We're allowed to have a past, and that's exactly what it is; in the past. All of the Tallest before us also had a past and that never affected their abilities to rule the Empire."

Purple's hands were cold but, for once, his touch was actually comforting. "You don't have to tell me that. I made my peace with this a long time ago." Red smiled a bit. It did feel kind of good to tell someone. "I just hope you don't think I'm weak."

"Red, you're an idiot." Purple matched his smile. "I think you're perfect even with all of your stupid little flaws." He refused to let go of Red's jawline. "This can be our secret now. But you have to promise me something, too."

"Hm?"

"If you ever feel yourself slipping, even a little, come to me."

"Pur, I haven't done it in so-"

"Answer me. Do you promise?"

"Yes," Red felt the resolute surge of power behind Purple's tone. "I promise."

Purple brushed his thumb lightly along Red's cheek then pulled away, reminding himself to behave. The information was a terrible burden and it was true he would never see Red the same, but he couldn't care in the slightest. It was _their_ burden now. In this moment, right now, they were closer than they had ever been. Red cared enough about him to share such an intimate piece of his past, something so dark and personal that he hadn't told anyone else all to help him share his own. It reinforced the feeling that they were two halves of the same whole and Purple truly felt at the moment that he was here to protect Red no matter what needed to be done. He wanted to lean in and kiss him slowly, to let him know that he would never have to be alone.

"Now that you know my secret, you can't stay quiet about whatever is bothering you." Red pointed out, his usual haughtiness returning. He poked Purple lightly in the chest. "I'll pull it out of you whether you like it or not."

Purple grinned and opened his mouth to speak, cut off by a series of three warning beeps from his PAK. A thick fog settled in his mind as he fought to stay awake, earning a chuckle from Red.

"Maybe later, then." He rolled over, putting his back to Purple. "Night, Pur." He mumbled under his breath.

Purple didn't have the strength to respond. He felt his body settle and his PAK slow, sending soothing waves over his nervous system as it switched over to recharge.

* * *

This morning was even colder than the last. Red had gotten up first, Purple awakening to him scrolling through his transmitter, ticking off requests as he shot them back to their original senders. Even here on vacation, in the middle of nowhere, he was a workaholic. They pulled down their hammock and ate quickly, watching the first of their two massive stars appear in the sky, lighting up the thick magenta atmosphere and awakening the forest around them. Unfortunately, it didn't warm up much as they took inventory of what rations they had left. It would be enough to get to the research station, just as Red had planned, but they would definitely need to restock soon. Purple had pointed out what looked like a cloud of exhaust in the distance, billowing up over the amethyst tree-tops and they had agreed that this was probably the station. They set off together again, but it was different this time. The bond between them felt deeper somehow. Instead of one leading the other, the walked side by side through the thick undergrowth, and looked each other in the eye when they talked. When one would falter, the other would wait for him to catch up and they would continue on together.

Minutes passed, then hours. Red had kept them amused with stories about beings he had met on other planets and, though Purple had heard them millions of times before, he still loved and laughed at them. As they grew closer to the research commune, more and more creatures revealed brief glimpses of themselves. Bright orange wings, a flash of brilliant blue eyes behind a bush, and the curious cries alerting the others to the foreign intruders. There was a constant feeling of being watched, triggering Red's military instinct to keep moving. The shrubbery thickened and became impassable, and Purple had suggested the two extend their PAK legs to try and wade through it. Red argued, wanting to cut it out of the way, but Purple coolly reminded him that they were technically on a nature reserve. Reluctantly, they went forward, careful not to trip or become hung up in the foliage. Their pace had slowed to a crawl, and it felt like another hour had passed.

"Look, Red." Purple pointed at a light flashing through a much-needed break in the trees, trying to remain steady on the spidery mechanical legs. "That looks promising."

They stumbled out of the brush into a manicured clearing, tucking their PAK legs away and admiring the extensive technological advancements they were now surrounded by. There were machines to monitor everything in the forest and an impressive external communications tower, the continued source of whatever signal they were able to draw from. A decent sized facility sat well-tended in the center and old Voot Runner sat nearby, the paint distressed and pitted with use. There was an open-air dome protruding from the top of the facility and out of it grew the largest tree Purple had ever seen. It was so unlike the other plants of Irk that he wasn't even sure it was really a tree. It engulfed the clearing, blocking out the sky with dense black leaves and tendrils that stretched upwards like tentacles, twisting and swaying lightly in the cold breeze. It smelled sour and Purple stuck out his tongue as the acrid stench burned his eyes. He remembered someone talking about this tree once in a scientific conference he held a while back but couldn't remember much about it.

"That's disgusting." Red looked up at the tree, stepping to the side as it dripped something thick and ropy to the forest floor. "I remember these. They come from Vort."

Suddenly, Purple remembered. This facility had been run strictly by Vortian naturalists before the war, and the tree had been planted as a symbol of the alliance between the two planets. It should have been burned after the fall of the Vortian Federation and the incarnation of the Vortian race, but the tree was unable to be removed without causing damage to the surrounding forest. Spork had been reluctant to leave it but decided that preserving the landscape was more important, and the Vortian symbol was left to grow. Now, it was just a thorny, sticky reminder of what once was.

"They know we're coming." Red reminded him impatiently, wanting to get away from the tree and its awful aroma. He turned towards the station. "Get over here, Pur."

Purple followed and together they approached the commune. It was eerily quiet, sealed shut by a massive, heavily armored door. Purple jumped when a hovering camera appeared out of nowhere, flittering down and stopping a few feet above them. He squinted up at the camera silhouetted against the large tree, frowning as it suddenly zipped off over the top of the roof followed by a high-pitched disembodied screech from deep within the building. He and Red shared a confused glance as several metallic crashes resounded through the clearing.

"Uh-" Purple held up a finger but was cut off as the huge door flew open, slamming into the outside wall.

"You're here! I can't believe you're actually here! They said you would come but I didn't believe them!" An excited, squeaky voice stuttered from the doorway.

Oh, no. Purple slowly looked over at Red, who was equally as unnerved as he was, frozen and unable to look away from the sight before him. This couldn't be right. The naturalist before them was…Vortian. She was tiny, her massive lab coat swallowing her and her sleeves practically dragging the ground. She pushed them back up over her elbows only for them to slip down again and reached up, adjusting a set of Irken-made goggles over her beady pink eyes. Two horns curled back from her forehead, making her look clumsy and lopsided, and she grinned up at them with a wide, sharp-toothed smile.

"Who the hell are you?" Red blurted out crudely. "You're all supposed to be in prison!"

Purple gave him a sharp elbow to the ribs as the little Vortian blinked in surprise. "A-ah! What he meant to ask is where the head naturalist of the facility is." He growled out, giving Red a glare and receiving one of equal intensity back. "We made arrangements to meet with an Irken scientist named Skleg."

"Oh, he's inside!" The Vortian beamed, shuffling her feet. "I can take you to him if you'd like!"

Red looked over the Vortian's head and into the facility. The interior was messy and disheveled, and it had appeared that equipment had been thrown around carelessly. Purple watched as his associate diverted his attention back to the Vortian, holding her under his icy stare. Strangely, she seemed completely unaffected. In fact, it was almost like she was drawing Red in, daring him to say something else.

"Wow! He's a real spark of lightning, isn't he?" She asked Purple with a giggle, her mood staying light as air. He wasn't too sure what that meant.

Red cleared his throat and straightened his back. "You will address us with respect, Vortian." He commanded "Where are your identification papers?"

The Vortian hesitated and felt around in her pockets, tossing out bits of lint and fluff before turning them inside out. "Oh, um, I must have left them at my desk. I can show them to you if you follow me inside!" She insisted.

Red didn't budge. He nodded to her jacket, pointing out her nametag. "Why are you wearing Irken Skleg's uniform?"

Purple blinked and followed Red's gaze. He was always so observant. "Hey," he began, narrowing his eyes in apprehension. "Why _are_ you wearing Skleg's nametag?"

The Vortian simply stared up with them, her eyes alight with amusement. "Oh, that! We were working outside in the dirt and I ripped my uniform on a thorn bush." She gave a squeaky laugh. "Skleg let me borrow his spare. It's a little big but I'd rather not be naked!" She threw a gloved hand over her mouth and giggled again, her grating voice going up an octave. For a woman of science, she was ditzy.

Purple grinned, satisfied with her explanation. He took a step forward, but Red flew forward and grabbed him. "Hey!"

He gripped Purple's shoulder hard, forcing him to be quiet. "I think we dropped something back in the woods, Pur. Can you help me look for it really quick?" He nodded to the tree line, urging him to follow.

"What?" Red wasn't making any sense. Purple hadn't noticed anything missing. "I don't remember you dropping anything."

Red's jaw tightened and he forced a smile. "No, I _really_ think I did. Come help me look." He practically spelled the sentence out, staring Purple down.

Purple's eyes went wide as he finally understood Red's motives. He looked from Red to the Vortian and back again. "Oh! Erm…Yeah! I remember now. You dropped that thing you really like…What was it?" He tried to think of something and panicked when nothing came to mind.

Red tried not to flinch as Purple fumbled with his hands. His famous eloquence would be of great help right now. The Vortian simply watched them with an overexaggerated smile, still unfazed by the scene that was unfolding. There was something about her stare that unnerved them both; It was profound and unblinking, piercing into them as they tried to hide the look of mutual revulsion on their faces. She watched every little move they made, her small pupils following them as they backed away from the commune. Irk, she was creepy.

"Ok! Go find that thing! I'll just wait for you here!" She called after them, not budging from the doorway.

As soon as they reached the forest, Red ducked behind a tree and spun Purple around to face him. "We need to leave." He demanded.

Purple chuckled at Red's grave look. "Red, you always get like this when we do new stuff." He brushed off his comment and shook his head, entertained. "So she's a little creepy. Are you going to let one weird Vortian ruin our trip?"

Red rubbed at his temples. "That's just it, Pur. She's _Vortian_! When we were planning this out and you called over here, you said you talked to an _Irken_. Did he mention anyone else being here?"

Purple wasn't following. "You're just being paranoid." He crossed his arms when he noticed Red's antennae twitch in frustration. "Don't give me that look, Red. Who is it that oversees social projects? I do. I've dealt with thousands of Vortian refugees who are wanting to positively integrate into our society. She's just one of the many we've helped, and it's our duty as Tallest to set a positive example for all of our citizens no matter how far beneath us or creepy they are."

"Purple," Red threw his hands in front of him in annoyance, "I've killed Vortians!" He swallowed when his voice carried a bit and dropped it back down to a whisper. "I've blown them up. _We've_ blown them up. Our people overtook her world and threw her people in prison."

Purple ran through the war in his head. "So? What's your point?"

"_So_, she knows that! Everyone knows that! Think about it; she didn't show us her foreign identification papers. She walked out in an Irken uniform with an Irken nametag on and there's no one else around. And," he explained, exasperated, "did you see it in the commune? It was a disaster! A fight definitely happened in there! We could be walking into an assassination attempt!"

Purple gave Red his 'really-you're-just-being-a-paranoid-asshat' look. "I think you're just nervous." He turned and walked from the brush, forcing Red to hesitate then reluctantly follow him. "Plus, we need to resupply. Even if we leave, we don't have enough to make it back to the ship and I am NOT starving because you were scared of someone not even a fourth of your height."

That was the end of it, Purple had decided. Red always did this. He would get one inkling of suspicion in his spooch and that was all it took to work him up. Any time a new being approached him he immediately went to the worst scenario he could think of and began prematurely accusing them of outlandish things without evidence. Not this time. This time, Purple was in charge and Red was going to listen.

"Hey, Vortian!" Purple called from across the clearing. Watching her jump a little. "We found it!"

She wrung her hands expectantly. "That's great! N-now, allow me to show you around. I think you'll like what you find here, my Tallest."

Purple smiled encouragingly at Red, who looked like he wanted to choke him to death. Ah, sweet success. "_We_ think that sounds great!" He followed the little Vortian forward and grabbed Red by the elbow.

Red muttered something and jerked away, following close behind but clearly on edge.

"We came for supplies. That's it." Red warned aggressively. He stalked after the questionable Vortian and fell in line besides Purple, bristling almost protectively alongside him.

The Vortian reached up and slowly pushed back her goggles, revealing the full of her angular face. She eyed Red a moment, and Purple shifted uncomfortably when he noticed the slight twitch in her upturned cheeks.

Her grin widened, sharp teeth glinting in the florescent light of the commune. Her slender fingers twitched and her voice dropped, shifting ominously low. "I am happy to help, my Tallest."

She gingerly closed the door behind them with a soft click before standing up on her toes to activate the internal lock. She took off slowly, carefully guiding them around the mess in the main hall. Red was right; it looked like a warzone. Purple chocked it up to the little Vortian's eccentricity. Scientific types usually were. A small ticking sound came from Red's bag and he cursed under his breath, not in the mood. He leaned in and whispered to Purple.

"Hey, grab my transmitter. Something just came through."

Purple nodded and reached into the side pocket of Red's bag, digging out the transmitter. A message flashed across the screen and he tapped it, pulling open the damage report for the Resisty's ship. He gave a small yawn as he scrolled through the information, glancing up every once in a while to make sure he was still treading in the right direction. The Vortian led them past many rooms, each filled with various plants and unattended growing containers. It was unusually quiet, but it _was_ early in the morning. Purple flicked the message down, skimming it lightly until he came to the communications report. The intelligence team had pulled the transmitter from Lard Nar's ship and performed a cold trace on the last transmission signal the faction had received. His blood ran cold and he felt his spooch flip. What? The signal came from..._this research station?_ There was no way this could be right. He read furiously over the text again and felt himself break into a sweat as he thoroughly examined the trace code. He had to be wrong. Yeah, it had to be all wrong. There had to be some kind of flaw in their investigation. He feverishly sweeped each line of code but he couldn't find any mistakes. His eyes settled on the damning piece of intelligence once more and he gritted his teeth. It was correct. No. No, no, no! This wasn't happening!

Red saw Purple stop out of the corner of his eye and leisurely glanced back. "Are you coming?" Wait...he paused. Purple was pale.

Purple's eyes snapped up. "You were right," he breathed, his tone slick with regret and fear. "I'm sorry."

Red's eyes went wide with immediate understanding then closed in heavy disappointment. He shook his head furiously, before meeting Purple's terrified look once again. He knew it. He fucking knew it. The light in his violet eyes had gone, replaced by the absolute terror and fear of death he had seen on his friend's face in the Florpus. It stung...and pissed Red off. Red swallowed as tunnel vision began to creep at his peripheries, followed by rage and a dire need to protect his companion. They were going to have do to this, huh? He had helped Purple dodge combat many times before, but this time it was unavoidable. His heels clicked on the cool tile as he strode gradually to where Purple stood petrified, positioning himself in front of him and giving him a side glance that everything would be ok. Purple needed to pull it together. There was no time to instruct him on what to do. He needed to focus all of his attention forward and just hope he didn't get shot with whatever was coming. Red dug the balls of his feet into the ground and braced himself, becoming aware of the knife hidden in the side of his boot. He leaned down ever so slowly, trying not to draw the Vortian's attention. He slipped the blade from it's sheath and gripped it firmly, going white knuckled. His antennae pulled back and he sensed the absolute terror in Purple. Let's get this over with.

"They called you didn't they? The Resisty!" Red yelled furiously across the corridor, stopping the Vortian cold in her tracks. "Somehow they knew we would be here! How?"

Purple clutched at the transmitter, bracing for the inevitable combat that was to follow. He wasn't ready. Dammit, he wasn't ready! The Vortian's shoulders slumped in annoyance and her head bobbed as she gave a single annoyed chuckle. "Damn." She said simply, as though she had been expecting things to play out this way. "I was banking on you two being as dumb as everyone said, but I'm actually surprised."

She undid the buttons of the heavy lab coat and let it slip to the floor, smoothing out the wrinkles in her black Vortian uniform. She turned to them, unafraid, fingering the trigger of a plasma pistol strapped to her utility belt. "Welcome to the New Resisty, gentlemen."

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Please drop a review. I like internet validation because I have no life. Or no validation if you feel that way too. Whatever floats your boat. Have a great day, Fam.


	5. A Vortian Scorned

Hallo! This is Charlotte! So, in five days, we've had 814 views overall and 19 reviews! Don't know how good that is, but it's great to me so thank you! I also want to say thank you to **BlueAlien909**, **Coco1611**, **Isillis**, and** Crazy TF Fangirl** for following or favoriting! You are all incredible and I appreciate you so much. Once again, reviews are welcome (*cough cough* I see yall out there reading drop a review *cough*) and feel free to reem my English if it's bad because I can honestly never tell. Danke schön!

**Chapter rated M for graphic depictions of violence.**

* * *

The Vortian clicked her nails unwearyingly across the smooth pink metal of her handgun. Red watched as she rubbed the pad of her finger deliberately along the groove of the trigger as if to taunt him, daring him to make the first move. He held his ground and shifted through his PAK extensions, ready to use force should the situation go nuclear. He had a strong feeling it would. He ever-so-gradually reached up, careful not to set off the delicate situation, and discarded his bag to the side. Purple followed his lead but kept a hand firmly planted on the transmitter.

"Aren't you going to ask my name?" The Vortian sneered, wrapping her hand around the grip of her pistol and flicking off the safety. She took a testing step forward. "I won't bite."

Red laughed threateningly, attempting to intimidate her. "Should I care? You'll be dead before you leave this building anyway." He mirrored her movements, following her like a snake.

He heard Purple take a step back behind him. With reflexes like a blur, the Vortian ripped her gun from its holster and threw it up in front of her, aiming fiercely over Red's shoulder. He countered, throwing himself in front of Purple and feeling his PAK legs fly from their casing. They went rigid, charging and aiming four hot lasers in her direction.

"Stay where you are!" The Vortian barked, trying to move her aim around Red to Purple. Her grip was as steady as her intention to kill. "I'm not playing around!"

"Or what?" Red spat. "There's two of us. You're one speck, just like your pathetic little planet!" He laughed again in hopes of winding her up. It worked and he watched the color of his enemy's face darken with rage.

A guttural growl emitted from the back of the Vortian's throat and her hands trembled as she was overcome by her fury. "S-Shut the fuck up!" She forced herself to remain composed, gritting her teeth. "I'm calling the shots here!"

"I don't think so." Red shut her down, only infuriating her more. "Here's what's going to happen; we're going to send the capitol a transmission and they're going to send a fleet out here to arrest you. I don't care who you are, what your name is, or what you're trying to do, but it obviously isn't going to happen."

"Y-Yeah!" Purple called from over Red's shoulder, immediately ducking back behind his companion when the Vortian's pistol flew up to meet him.

"Give me the transmitter!" She screeched, taking another step forward when she saw Purple click it on. "Slide it over and no one gets hurt!"

"Did I say you could talk to him?" Red stiffened once more, his attention snapping back into focus at her sudden movement. His pulse quickened and he felt his blood run hot as they stared each other down. "Send it, Pur."

Her finger tightened over the trigger. She moved her attention from Purple to Red, aiming between his eyes. "So help me, if you send that message, I will paint the walls with his brains!"

Purple froze in dread. He wavered, conflicted, his fingers hovering above the screen as his panicked look vaulted between the two. Red glanced back, momentarily taking his eyes off of the Vortian. It was a decision he would soon regret. A flash of scorching pink plasma flew inches from his cheek, burning his skin and colliding with the wall to his left. Sharp debris showered over them and Red tried not to choke on the dust that flooded the narrow hallway. He grabbed Purple and shoved him hard to the floor as another shot rang out, then another, each coming closer to hitting their target. The Vortian sprinted forward with a shrill war cry. Red fired back, gutting the floor and stripping away the tile as his PAK heated to alarming levels.

"Drop now! Drop-" The Vortian screamed to the ceiling. She was cut off with a sharp gag as Red closed the distance between them, sweeping her off her feet with a hard kick to her stomach.

He reared back and thrust his knife down, barely missing as she rolled swiftly from under him. She was agile and used her diminutive size to her advantage, dodging each blow Red's PAK could throw at her with increasing stamina. There was a deafening crack above them as the ceiling split and a sharp weight collided with Red's back, knocking him relentlessly to the floor. A heavily armored Screwhead grabbed ferociously at his PAK legs and Red cried out at the blistering pain of one being torn mercilessly from his body. The Screwhead shrieked and held it high above himself as a display of power but didn't get far. He was knocked back several feet as Purple smacked him hard upside the face with the transmitter, continuing to pummel him in a blind frenzy. The screen collided with the thick screw protruding from his head and shattered, razor-sharp glass slicing through Purple's gloves. He was forced to drop the blood-soaked device to the floor, resorting to using his hands and landing a hard punch to the Screwhead's mouth, feeling a yellowed tooth dislodge under his knuckles. He yelped and ducked as another shot from the Vortian whizzed over his head. The deafening sound rang in his antennae and he went into shock, disoriented and chasing his senses but unable to reconnect with them. Red jumped up and pushed Purple back, forcing him into a side room as more rebels dropped from the gaping hole in the ceiling. He slammed the heavily armored door shut, barricading it with his body. A plasma shot collided hard with the door, sending Red reeling forward. He scrambled back to regain his footing, holding fast as a fist slammed against the metal.

"Come out, come out, Irken scum!" The Vortian's high-pitched voice jeered from the other side of the door. "I promise we won't kill you! We need you alive!"

"Dammit, Purple!" Red barked urgently. He flinched when the broken leg of his PAK sparked. "Pull it together and call the fleet!"

Purple shook his head unsteadily, Red's voice muffled in his overstimulated antennae. He looked up and watched as the door lurched again, Red jerking abruptly. His heels and mechanical extensions scraped hard against the floor as he struggled to hold it against the weight of the rebel faction pushing back. Purple took a sharp breath as he hastily snapped back to reality. He rushed over and threw his body against the door, their combined strength holding it fast.

"What are you doing?!" Red gritted his teeth. "Call them!"

Purple labored to hold his position, his muscles burning under the tension. "I can't! I broke the transmitter!"

"You what?!"

Before Purple could respond, the force against them pulled back and the corridor behind them hushed, the two slumping hard against the door with a loud thump. Red narrowed his eyes and pressed a finger silently to his lips as he listened. His antennae twitched and flicked as he drew in every minute sound, straining against the thick metal. Purple didn't dare move, immobilized by the terrible anticipation. They couldn't be gone, could they? He glanced up at Red who was still intent, sharp blade firmly in his hand and PAK legs overextended. Sweat poured off of him and the burn on his cheek was beginning to blister. His scent was wild and untamed, tinged with worry but dominated by hatred. They were going to die and again it was all Purple's fault. He should have listened to Red's instinct, but he let his need for social order get in the way. Irk, he was so damn stupid!

"Red, I-"

Red flew forward and clamped a hand over Purple's mouth. Purple's breath heaved against the fabric of his leather glove as they locked eyes. Red's expression was harsh but protective. It was a look Purple had only seen a few other times and, despite the danger they were in, he felt confident in Red's ability to pull them out of this.

"_Be quiet_." Red mouthed silently, inches from his friend's face. He pulled his palm back and Purple swallowed, giving him a small nod.

They had to get out of here. Red remembered the Voot Runner just outside of the compound. If they could make it out, they could highjack the ship and use it to send a distress signal. He quickly scanned the room, honing in on any and every microscopic detail he could find. Thick, immovable walls. Supply shelf in the back corner. Scalpel on the top, scissors on the bottom. His eyes darted up. An air vent. Wait, an air vent! The grate was too small for them to squeeze through, but it was just the right size for…Shit.

Thud!

Purple felt his own PAK legs fly out on instinct. He stifled a yell with his hand as a few heavy footsteps sounded ominously from the duct system above them. Red shot to the supply shelf, snatching the scalpel and thrusting it into Purple's hands. They exchanged a knowing look. Just in case. Red threw a hand on Purple's waist and forced him behind him once more, ready to use his body as a shield should it come to that. Purple was too good to die in a place like this. He wouldn't let these rebel bastards have the satisfaction of snuffing out one of Irk's brightest lights.

"Red, I need to tell you something." Purple breathed, holding the scalpel awkwardly in front of him with one hand and reaching down shakily with the other. He clutched at Red's hand on his waist. He couldn't die without telling him the truth. "I…I guess I've always…um…I've always lo-"

The grate flew from the vent and the Screwhead from before shot down to the floor, battered and dripping blood but completely enraged. "You knocked out my tooth, you purple Irken bitch! I'm gonna tear that PAK right outta your spine!"

The jab pushed Red over the edge. He tore away from Purple and charged forward, slashing at the Screwhead and landing a long, clean cut to his chest. The Screwhead cried out in pain but kept up his onslaught, throwing himself at Red and biting down hard on his shoulder, ripping away the fabric of his jacket and drawing blood. Red wrapped his PAK legs around the Screwhead's bulky body and pried him off, tossing him back but keeping on his heels when he smacked his head hard against the far wall. Purple watched in feeble disbelief as Red grabbed him by the neck and pinned him against the wall, squeezing. He jabbed his knife up under his enemy's ribcage then ripped it out and thrust it back, delivering a second, a third, a fourth damning blow in a frenzied, hungry onslaught. This was the Red everyone feared and Purple suddenly understood why. The Screwhead choked and sputtered as Red released him to crumple to the floor, wheezing in a pool of dark blue blood before going still.

Abruptly, something caught Purple's attention. He caught a glimpse of two curled horns as the Vortian leader popped out from the vent. She hung upside down and fumbled to hastily load something with an audible click. His eyes widened when she revealed an Irken-made electric rifle and took aim at Red's PAK, squinting expertly through her scope. Purple felt his own PAK kick into overdrive as his laser guided systems fired on a reckless whim, connecting with the metal ceiling around her but missing her completely. She screamed and nearly plummeted from her perch as the room shook.

"Stay away from him!" Purple bellowed frenetically and threw the scalpel, nicking her in the arm and taking away flesh.

At the unexpected pain the Vortian lost her balance and scraped at anything she could find to hang onto, falling and squeezing the hair trigger in the process. It happened in the blink of an eye. A powerful bolt of electricity shot from the barrel and careened across the room. Red didn't even have the chance to turn before it collided with his PAK, sending thousands of volts of electricity flooding through his body. Every muscle in his body tensed and his eyes flew wide before his face contorted in agony. His jaw locked shut, biting down hard on his tongue as he seized violently. He could hardly hear Purple cry out over the searing buzz, rendering him incapacitated as his whole body felt like it was melting. The electricity spread through his fingertips, sending sparks bouncing through the metal walls of the station and popping a few of the florescent lights above. When it finally grounded itself, Red dropped limply to his knees and fell forward, unconscious.

"No!" Purple lunged forward and grabbed frantically at Red, rolling him onto his side. "Get up, Red! Get up!"

He shook Red by the shoulders as he panted, but he didn't give so much as a twitch. There was a small hum from deep in Red's PAK as it tried to restart but faltered, fried by the electric stress and shooting out a high mechanical whine. Purple placed two shaky hands on either side of Red's face as tears pricked in his eyes. No. No. This couldn't be how it ended for them. His world was crumbling to pieces and Purple felt all rationality leave his mind. His ocular implants played back memories in rapid succession; the moment they met, their first public address, their first probing day. They got deeper and more emotional. The first time they stayed up late together, trying to throw popcorn into each other's mouths like children while they watched stupid films. That time Red made him burst into laughter in the middle of a conference with a Meekrob ambassador. A fleeting image of the time they fell asleep against each other while doing paperwork on their loveseat. He saw all the happiness they shared. The little things held the most weight and each one hurt worst than the last, the image of Red's overconfident smile burned into his mind. He couldn't die at the hands of the rebellion they'd worked so hard to stamp out! Suddenly, Purple gasped when he noticed Red's fingers twitch. Holy shit, he was alive! He was actually alive! There was hope for them yet!

He leaned down, his pulse deafening. "Red!? Can you hear me?" He ran his hands up behind Red's neck, propping him up. Don't cry. Don't you dare cry. This isn't the time to break down. You need to be strong.

No response. Red's PAK continued to fight and choke on the overload of information, hanging up on itself every time it almost got to the point of restarting before shutting down again.

Purple gingerly lowered Red back to the ground and felt something inside himself snap, releasing a flood of terrible emotion to course through the room. Any fear remaining in him was replaced by the worst, most archaic rage he had ever experienced. That…that…bitch shot Red. _His_ Red. The Vortian rebel groaned from where her tiny body had crunched against the tile, her rifle far from her reach as she made a weak attempt to grab for it. Purple gave Red a final glance before standing. He was going to make the resistance hurt. Not just hurt; he was going to burn them alive. He scooped up the rifle and stalked to where the Vortian lay feebly, nursing the gash on her arm.

She stared up the barrel of the rifle as Purple forced it down in her face. Coughing painfully, she gave a weak half-smile and somehow managed a light chuckle. "Everyone thinks you're the weak one." She rasped in between breaths. "You gonna prove me wrong now that I fried your boy toy?"

A pang of fear crept back into Purple's chest at the remark. He fumbled to click off the safety as the Vortian turned to the side, spitting tiny drops of blood to the floor. She tried to push herself up, but immediately collapsed once more.

She smirked below him, noticing the look of heavy realization on Purple's face. "That's right. I know everything about you. We've been watching you for a long time, gathering little bits of information we thought could be…._useful_ to our plan." She gave him a long, uninterested blink. "Poor little Purple didn't get to tell big bad Red about his special feelings, did he?"

Purple glared back, seething at her mocking tone. He'd been there with Red to release this make of rifle to the Irken special forces, but never held one. It was heavy in his hands as he propped the stock against his collarbone. Each ridge and groove reminded him of the warlike tendencies of his Empire. Was this to be his legacy? Dying in the middle of a forest on his own planet at the hands of those who wanted to destroy it? The hands of those who wanted to destroy everything he worked so hard to achieve? No…he was supposed to grow old with Red and die by his side. They'd made plans to be deactivated together. Together. They would always be together. Even if it happened here, they would die together. Purple swallowed. As much as he wanted to melt the little Vortian's brain, something still held him back. He trembled somewhat, trying to pull himself together for Red's sake. No! They _wouldn't_ die here! They would walk out and get in that Voot and leave this place behind! He would make sure of it. He stared back down at the Vortian below him. Without thinking he dug the heel of his boot hard into her chest, squeezing the air from her lungs. She fought, grabbing and kicking frantically, but he held fast.

_Just pull the trigger!_ He screamed at himself internally. _She hurt Red! She deserves to die!_

The rebel leader battled to take a breath but managed to shake her head in disappointment, swallowing thickly when Purple shoved the barrel against her skin. It was still hot from the last round she fired. "D-Do it then!" She demanded vehemently, her voice growing weak and sweat beading on her brow. Her face flushed a dark grey and she coughed, deprived of air. "What are you w-waiting for, you p-pansy?! S-Shoot me!"

Purple shivered when he moved his finger to the trigger. There was no going back from killing. He'd blown up thousands of worlds and saw to the destruction of countless empires but that was different. That was hidden behind glass, behind a screen. A touch of a button and all he had to do was sit back and wait for the Armada to do the dirty work. He never had to see the death and mayhem his hands wrought. Did he regret that now? Maybe. If they hadn't expanded the Empire as quickly as they did, maybe they wouldn't be here. If they had given the Vortian people more rights on their own planet, this rebel may not have shot Red. But that was the past. This was here and now, guided by Purple's own hand. It wasn't his fault the Irken Empire dominated the universe. He wouldn't apologize for the successes of his people. Purple could hear every choke of his enemy below him, feel every claw scraping against his boot as he pressed down harder, every kick of delicate cloven feet. It was sickening knowing he was in charge of taking a life. Even if she wanted him dead, the Vortian was still a living, breathing woman and there was something about shooting a woman that felt deeply unsettling. Red had told him back in the transport pod that the first time seeing death up close was the hardest, but he was wrong. This felt even worse. The Vortian's attempts to throw him off grew feeble as she gasped for air. Now was Purple's chance. He took a deep breath, held it, and counted to three.

The door to the room blasted off it's hinges and smoke stung his eyes, blinding him. Purple blinked rapidly and released the Vortian, repositioning his grip on the rifle. When he regained his sight, the Vortian was gone. He cursed under his breath and broke into a cold sweat, anxiously scanning the smoke-filled room around him. The air rushed behind him and he spun with a yelp, firing at what looked like a bright ball of white light. The Meekrob soldier dodged and sent out a piercing wave of ultrasonic sound. Purple dropped the rifle to the ground and clawed at his antennae, desperate to relieve the piercing agony the call shot through his head. Suddenly, footsteps rushed up and something jagged and hard connected with the back of his skull. He stumbled and the sound faded. The world went fuzzy as he lost his balance completely, tripping as the light dulled and everything went black.

* * *

"Shocking in three, two, one." Purple's PAK delivered a violent shock and he lurched forward, arching his back at the sudden sensation.

There was a bright light and Purple kept his eyes screwed shut, flinching away as the light grew closer to his face, then suddenly moved back. He became aware of the throbbing pain in the back of his skull and groaned, letting his head fall forward where he sat. There was a singular voice, talking and whispering to itself as he tried to reach up only to find that he couldn't. Purple groggily opened his eyes and stared down at his lap. He'd been bound to a chair with what looked like electrical cord, his hands and feet completely immobilized. His breath hitched in his throat as the situation came back into clear view, panic flooding over him as he remembered. Red! His eyes shot up to the figure positioned directly in front of him. Red was also heavily bound, slumped limply and pale where he sat.

"Red?" Purple hissed. Still no answer.

The room was bright and smelled of soil. Jars of flora specimens covered long tables that had been pushed back against the walls. In the corner, Purple noticed another figure, recognizing him as Skleg, the scientist. He'd been shot multiple times in the chest, his clothing stained with candy pink blood and his eyes half lidded and unblinking. Purple was almost positive he was dead. He tried not to think about it. A small tray sat on the floor nearby a stepstool, housing various scientific tools. A scalpel, forceps, tweezers, and a syringe glared back up at him from the floor. Purple swallowed, not wanting to know what they were for, and jumped when he heard a deafening electric pop sound from behind Red followed by a thick cough.

A freckled Vortian male poked up from behind Red's PAK, standing on his tip toes. He reached up and clicked off his bright head lamp, cocking his head inquisitively when he noticed Purple was finally conscious. He swatted away the tiny puff of foul-smelling smoke that curled up from Red's device before digging back into it with some unknown tool. He tugged at wires and tightened screws, his eyes squinting behind his bright orange goggles as he worked tirelessly.

"What are you doing?!" Purple strained angrily against his bonds, working himself back up into a frenzy. "Get your hands away from him!"

He was overcome by his need to protect Red. Enough of this madness! He threw out his PAK legs, ready to slice through the cords and free himself, but was stopped short as his worst fears were realized. Where…where were his PAK legs? Purple craned his neck to look behind him wincing sharply at the pain in the back of his head. His extensions had been removed at the joint, leaving only the connectors behind. What!? He rapidly filtered through the rest of his extensions. Lasers, gone. Communicator, gone. Pain medication, gone. He was completely defenseless. Purple felt like he was going to throw up. Was there no way out? Was he really stuck here?!

The Vortian stared over Red's shoulder in cautious curiosity, watching Purple closely. "I took them out." He muttered finally, returning to his unknown work on Red. "Don't worry, I'm keeping them safe. We didn't want anyone to get hurt."

Was that supposed to make him feel better?! Purple gritted his teeth and fought against his restraints, growling and twisting like a caged animal. "What have you done to me?! I'll fucking kill you!" He flew forward as far as he could, baring his teeth as the Vortian watched, growing anxious. Purple continued to rattle off curses, the fire in his eyes unrelenting.

"Would you shut up?" The Vortian's voice was low, a strained whisper. "I can't focus with you cursing at me."

Purple didn't listen. "I said don't touch him! If you hurt Red I'll…I'll…!"

The Vortian chewed at his gum before spitting it to the side. "I'm _trying_ to reboot him. If you keep yelling, Urb Yen will come back and then you'll really wish you had me here." He shuddered. "Do you want your buddy to live or not? He's been out for a while and I really need to get him booted up before his natural brain begins to lose function."

"Who's Urb Yen?! What is this?! Where's your leader?! What do you want?! Get your disgusting hands out of his PAK!"

The Vortian groaned in frustration, pulling away from Red and rubbing his temples. "Geez, I feel bad for the team that had to run recon on you all these cycles! You really _are_ annoying." He huffed, tinkering with the medical casing of Red's device and popping it open. "I liked you better when you were unconscious."

"You're going up against the whole of the Irken Empire!" Purple yelled back, refusing to give up his relentless assault. "They'll know something's wrong when we don't check in and then it's just a short fly over to Judgementia! I'll personally see to your execution!"

Their captor pulled Red's pain medication from deep within his PAK, sniffed it, and tossed it over his shoulder. He shut the compartment once more and moved on. "We already sent a transmission posing as you. We have nothing to worry about. As far as the Armada knows, you're still hiking together like you planned."

Purple couldn't believe this was happening. How could the Armada be fooled by something like this? They had to come for them! "I don't believe you!"

Without looking up, the Vortian reached into his pocket and pulled out Red's busted transmitter. He hooked it into some kind of portable device and played back a blood-curdling recording of Specialist Pem.

"My Tallest, we here on the Massive are enthused that your trip is going well!" The transmitter sputtered and the Vortian smacked it against his hip, restoring the signal. "We are pleased with the findings of your personal investigation into the Naphrus research station. It is quite possible that the Resisty faked this transmission to throw us off of the trail of their true motives. Lard Nar has been apprehended on the surface of Conventia as well as two Plookesian guards. All were taken into custody and are to stand trial in your absence on Judgementia. I will continue to report back to you, my Tallest, and I hope-"

The Vortian rolled his eyes and disconnected the transmitter. "His voice is just as annoying." He stuffed it back in the pocket of his long black coat and resumed his work, squinting as more sparks shot from Red's PAK.

It was true. The Armada wasn't coming. Purple screamed again and continued to struggle. There had to be a way out of this hellish nightmare! "Dammit, Red, wake up!"

"He _could_ if you would give me the peace and quiet I need to fix him!"

"Red we have to get out of here!"

"I said, SHUT UP!"

The Vortian threw his tool hard to the ground and clenched his fists. His furious voice echoed off the walls and he shot daggers at Purple, who stopped yelling only to glare back. They stayed like this for a few long seconds before Purple broke the silence with a low rumble.

"Who are you?" The danger in his own menacing voice shocked him a little, but he didn't care.

The Vortian gave an overexaggerated sigh and bent down, retrieving his tool. He wiped it on the folds of his jacket. "They really didn't tell you anything, did they?" He examined Purple's face and determined that was a firm no. "My title is Prisoner 432. I was the agent who started the riots on Moo-Ping 10 a few days ago."

Purple tried not to show his surprise, masking it with false confidence. Prisoner 432 continued. "I don't even remember my own name. It was forcibly erased by an Irken officer after my planet was conquered."

"I don't care about your damn planet!" Purple hissed. "Just tell me what you want!"

Prisoner 432 ignored him, continuing his story. "I used to be a doctor for your people here on Irk. I became an expert in PAK technologies, hopeful that the alliance between our two races would only grow stronger. I loved my job and respected the Armada. But," He paused, "your Tallest, Miyuki, decided one day that our people had resources she deemed valuable. She sucked the energy from our planet's core and used it to create a generator strong enough to power your planet for millions of cycles. My planet was rendered lifeless." His jaw tightened as he continued his work on Red, trying not to let his anger boil up. "Without an atmosphere, my people froze to death on one side of the planet and burned on the other. They fled and declared war but didn't stand a chance against the technology we had built for the Armada. When Miyuki was killed and Spork took over, things were no different. Our planet was converted into a mass prison. I was stripped of my rank, despite my allegiance to the Irken Empire and thrown in prison for war crimes I did not commit."

Purple felt a twinge of guilt at Prisoner 432's story. Sure, it was bad what happened to Vort but that wasn't his or Red's fault! That was before their time! "How does this matter to us?" He snapped, trying to wiggle his wrists free to no avail. "We didn't invade Vort!"

"No, but you left my people to rot in prison!" Prisoner 432 yanked hard on something in Red's PAK, causing his limp body to jolt. "Sure, there were social programs for refugees left behind in hiding, but I and many others like me were forgotten! My planet remains dead and barren; a prison for your disgusting Empire! I had a life! I had a wife and two daughters! Where are they? They could be shivering in some Irken prison cell for all I know!" He stopped, realizing the rapidly escalating situation. He took a deep breath. "But there was hope with Lard Nar. He formed the Resisty and gave us schematics to the Massive and all current Irken technologies. He taught us how to hack your transmitters. We followed you two for endless cycles, waiting for the moment you would be most venerable, and our plan could unfold. We learned every intimate detail of you and Red; when you ate, when you recharged, who you held council with, and who you trusted."

Purple felt his nerves spike, appalled with the terrifying invasion of his privacy. He felt completely naked. How much had they seen? This had been going on for how many cycles? But…how? He never noticed anyone trailing him and there was never any inkling of foreign code in his data stream. He flinched at the idea and Prisoner 432 noticed, giving him a fast smirk.

"We thought you would be dead when you went through that Florpus. Unfortunately," he leaned against Red's PAK and drummed his fingers against the metal, "you two managed to survive. Lard Nar saw this as a blow to the Armada and decided to mount an attack. We underestimated the power you still held and watched his ship crumble over Conventia." He swallowed thickly and blinked, remembering the carnage that Red had brought upon them. "He will go down as a martyr to our cause. That's when Urb Yen decided to take over last night, reeling us back in from the tragedy and dubbing us the New Resisty. She had listened to your plans before to come out here and we saw it as the perfect opportunity to strike."

The door swung open. "432, are they awake?"

Purple's eyes snapped up to the female Vortian from before. Urb Yen. He was happy to see how much of a number he actually did on her, watching her limp harrowingly across the room. Her face was bruised and swollen and the cut on her arm was much deeper than he remembered. Her lip was split, and her uniform was disheveled and mangled. The bitch deserved everything she had coming to her. Two heavily armed Plookesian guards stalked closely behind her, each holding an electric poker.

Prisoner 432 saluted her. "Ma'am! I've removed both the sedative pockets from their PAKs so they should feel everything when we begin. I'm still attempting to rework the red one's computer systems and bring him back online." He jabbed a thumb in Purple's direction. "This one won't stop talking."

Purple flattened his antennae and bared his teeth as Urb Yen grinned in his direction. "Phew, tall guy!" She giggled, putting a hand on her hip. "You actually put up a pretty good fight."

"Let. Us. Go." Purple snarled, expression darkening. He gripped at the armrests of his chair, digging his claws into the freezing metal.

Urb Yen raised a brow. "Or what, love? You'll talk me to death? Sorry I had to shock your friend. I thought with him getting older he would be soft, but he's still got it in him." She chuckled as though she knew Red and turned back to Prisoner 432. "How much longer will this take? We need both of them alert for this to work."

"For what to work?!" Purple snapped, spitting in her direction. "Why are you doing this?"

Urb Yen wiggled a forefinger at him. "Testy, testy! Calm down, Irken. You'll see what I have in mind for you soon enough."

She circled around in between him and Red, throwing her other hand on her hip and bending forward to examine Red's face. She was dangerously close.

"He's almost online, Ma'am." Prisoner 432 piped up. "His diagnostics are complete and all I need to do is perform a manual restart. Keep in mind, Ma'am, he may be violent upon returning to consciousness."

Urb Yen clicked her tongue in her cheek and nodded, satisfied with her handiwork. She reached up and ran her finger over the burn on Red's cheek, earning another livid growl from Purple. She glanced back to where he continued to struggle and twist, the cords cutting into his wrists.

"I have to say," she mused, "I just can't see what you find attractive about him."

Purple felt destitute and helpless as he watched the sadistic Vortian turn and pull herself up into Red's lap, crossing her legs and leaning back into his chest. His breathing quickened in sheer terror as she reached up behind her, slinging her arms around Red's neck.

"How does it feel to not be able to do anything? The leader of the most powerful empire in the cosmos reduced to nothing, all because a Vortian mercenary is touching his boyfriend." She purred in satisfaction and watched Purple's fearful expression closely with piercing eyes. "Maybe I should kiss him for you. You obviously don't have the guts to do it yourself." She kidded cruelly.

"No!" Purple was practically begging at this point, his tone becoming increasingly strained and desperate. He tried one last attempt to break free from the cords, rubbing his wrists raw at the unbearable friction.

Urb Yen rolled her eyes and jumped down from Red's lap, her cloven feet hitting the ground with a click. "Like I would want to kiss a _murderer_. You're taste in men is appalling." She crossed her arms with a sneer. "You can struggle all you want but those are unbreakable. I tore them out of that Voot outside before we burned it."

Purple's eyes went wide. His only escape plan…_burned_? Without the Voot they would have to try and make it back to their flagship, but that was hours away! There was no telling what would happen on the way there, or if they would even make it. They didn't have a transmitter and their PAKs were damaged. They didn't even have anything to eat. The last sparks of hope Purple had to escape began to fizzle out as he gave up, slumping into the chair. He'd killed them both. He looked Red over. Two toxic Irkens ascended to power over a toxic empire. Their lives were over as soon as the Control Brains reencoded their PAKs as Tallest. Purple didn't regret coming to power. He had been a good leader and so had Red. They were liked but equally feared by the public and the Empire was more powerful than it ever had been. The only thing he regretted was not being honest with Red. Prisoner 432 reached over to one of the Plookesian guards who handed him an electric poker. He carefully lowered the tip into the open hatch of Red's PAK. Without warning, he administered a swift shock before slamming the hatch shut, grabbing Urb Yen, and jumping back several feet.

Red's eyes shot open with a startling scream as he immediately began to fight with his restraints, stuck in the last few moments of combat before he was shot. He panted and thrashed, his violent mood only subsiding when his gaze landed on Purple in front of him. His breathing was heavy, and his stare was fierce.

"What…Purple? Where are we?" He looked in every direction then to his bonds, narrowing his eyes. He attempted the same maneuver Purple had, pulling out what was left of his PAK legs and only growing more livid when he realized they had been amputated.

Purple watched his companion, helpless to do anything about his strife but overjoyed that he was alive and literally kicking again. "Red! Y-you're alright!" Despite the peril of their situation, he grinned, leaning forward as far as he could to try and be as close to Red as possible. It wasn't close enough. "I thought you were dead! I-I thought….I-I…" He let himself become swept away by his emotions as he choked on sob after sob, hot tears streaking down his face.

Red returned his smile, wincing at the pain of the burn on his cheek. He'd never been more relieved to see Purple in his life. He was torn up, but he was breathing, his grin like a warm glow on his tear stained face. But, how long had Red been out? He examined Purple closely, eyes trailing over each scrape and bruise dotting his skin, fraught with concern and alight with the burning desire to kill whoever had the nerve to bind his co-leader. No one was allowed to hurt Purple but him. His anger ebbed and flowed, drowned out by the tremendous relief at seeing his best friend alive before him. He wanted Purple's stupid affections, wishing he could reach out and squeeze him. They would get out of this. He would make sure of it. And when they did, he would hug Purple as long as he wanted.

"Pur," the pet name practically hummed off of his lips as he fought back his own unexpected emotions. "It's going to be ok, now. I won't let anything happen to you." All that mattered was that they were together. They were alive.

Urb Yen faked a gag. "Ugh! You two are disgusting!" She tapped her foot impatiently on the tile. "Wrap up whatever mushy crap is happening here so we can get on with it!"

Red took a deep breath and turned slowly, menacingly, to face Urb Yen. She had made Purple cry. That wasn't something he would tolerate. "And what exactly do you think you, with your infinite Vortian knowledge, can do to us?" He chided sarcastically, watching Urb Yen bristle. "Whatever you're going to do, I've already been through. You don't scare me."

Urb Yen's fingers twitched in anticipation and anger. "You want to know what the New Resisty really wants?" She hissed lowly, her voice barely audible as she leaned in, inches from Red's face. "You're going to sign ownership of Vort back to the Vortian people. And," She straightened herself up, "we're not going to stop there. If you don't want Irk to be burned alive, you'll sign over every planet in the Empire you've stolen."

Purple held his breath when Red broke into sudden laughter, genuinely amused with the ridiculous request. Urb Yen's eyes darted nervously between the two and she jutted out her bottom jaw, growing uncomfortable with the unexpected reaction. Red's laughter subsided enough for him to speak. "That's a good one, kid! How old are you? Like, 90 cycles? You really think a little thing like you with a few untrained soldiers can take down the Irken Empire?" He struggled to remain composed. "I'm not signing anything. Good try though."

Urb Yen crossed her arms behind her back and slowly closed her eyes, willing herself to calm. "I don't need _you_ to sign." She turned to Purple who blinked in surprise. "A treaty request only requires the signature of one Tallest. You, Red, you're strong. I knew we wouldn't be able to convince you."

She strode leisurely to where Purple was restrained. He pressed himself as far back into the chair as he could, sweating under the forceful glare of Urb Yen's infinitely deep eyes. She scanned his face, unblinking, before nodding in delighted approval. "But _him_; he'll be easy to break...and you'll help me do it."

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Horray! Another chapter down. Please leave a review. I appreciate you! Have a good day! Danke!


	6. The Truth Comes Out

We gained more followers! Yay! Shout out to **SugarCitrus **and** kanng95**; hello and welcome to the reoccurring train wreck that is this fic. I appreciate you! Also thank you for 25 reviews! I'll be quiet now so have fun. Or don't. Not gonna lie, this is gonna hurt a little to write. Jhonen forgive me.

**Chapter rated M for language and graphic depictions of violence.**

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"How's your blood sugar? You hungry?" Urb Yen asked sweetly. "If you cooperate, I can get you whatever you want, honest." She turned back to Purple with a grin. "How do you feel about compliance, love?"

Red lurched forward, scooting his chair a few millimeters in the process. "Don't touch him! If you hurt him, I will make it my personal mission to gut you!"

Urb Yen reached forward and grabbed the collar of Purple's jacket. He yelped when she forced him forward to meet her gaze. "I'm not going to hurt him…_yet_. I don't think I'll have to." She pushed him back hard and glanced over her shoulder to where Red sat, fuming. "I remember you, Red. Do you remember me? Probably not."

Red didn't waver. "I thought I told you I don't give a shit who you are."

"I'm a lot older than I look. Remember a little operation called Viral Sweep?"

Purple blinked, horrified of where this was going. Viral Sweep? Why was she bringing that up now? That operation ended so long ago; it was only a faint memory in the back of his mind. Urb Yen continued, her tone crisp.

"I was a rebel pilot for Vort, back then. I had my own fleet. We were tasked with invading Irk's moon to establish a base of operations as we prepared to sweep the planet and destroy key airbases." She gritted her teeth and stomped a foot on the ground. "Your team sprayed some kind of disease over our camp. So many of my men died from that alone. We were forced to withdraw but who was waiting for us outside the moon's atmosphere? I remember a red commander giving chase in his Ring Cutter, destroying my fleet…no…my _family_. You shot me down over Plookesia. I lost my sight in my right eye during the crash." Purple became suddenly aware of her dead eye, unsure of how he had missed it before.

"You took everything from my planet, my people, and my life." Her voice grew hushed with a sudden flood of emotions. "Why can't you Irkens just see the destruction and pain you bring? Vort used to be your ally, but you betrayed us to fuel a fucking generator!"

"Bo-ring." Red faked a yawn and rolled his eyes. "It's not our fault your people can't defend themselves. I just did my job and took what was rightfully mine."

Purple swallowed, trying to think. There had to be a way out of this. Suddenly, he remembered something he was sure Urb Yen had overlooked. "Look," he began carefully, "I'm sorry for what happened to you and the people of Vort, but do you realize how difficult it will be to return your planet to Vortian control?" Urb Yen listened, suddenly intent, and Purple continued. He was sure this would defuse the situation. "It isn't within our jurisdiction to sign it over. Vort is a mass prison overseen by Irken guards, yes, but it was marked as a scientific research facility by the Inquisitorians."

"Oh yeah!" Red chimed in, remembering the treaty with a smile. "According to the Irken-Inquisitorian Treaty**, we don't have the legal authority to sign over a planet marked for Inquisitorian research." He managed a small shrug, triumphant. "Sorry! Gotta take that one up with them!"

Urb Yen reached up, slipping her goggles back over her beady pink eyes. Purple watched as she glanced to the side. She hadn't thought this far. She fumbled awkwardly with the pistol in her belt, scraping at the rubber grip as she ran through ideas in her head. Finally, she gave herself a small nod and seemingly reached a conclusion.

"This is an interesting point. I will give it to you; I didn't think of that. But I think this will work in my favor." She thought once more before resolving any final conflicts she had. "I guess you'll just have to go to war with the Inquisitorians."

"That doesn't make any sense! You're damning yourself to the same fate if we go to war!" Red spat, giving Purple an exasperated look. "You'll have to fight them for your planet too!"

Urb Yen threw her head back and laughed to the ceiling. She crossed between the two and snapped her fingers. One of the Plookesian guards came forward, handing her an electronic reader that she quickly skimmed.

"Gentlemen, gentlemen." She tutted her tongue on the roof of her mouth. "You're _going_ to sign over Vort to Vortian control and the other planets you stole from countless races in our star system. I thought about it and an angry group of Inquisitorians sounds so delightful!" Her good eye twinkled and she practically bounced with glee. "All I'll have to do is sit back and watch while your two races destroy one another! Then, my people can come back in and take Vort for good. If you don't, my people orbiting outside your planet will start blowing up cities here on Irk."

"You're a fucking idiot." Red groaned, Urb Yen's voice grating on him. "That's not how war works. If you kick Irk and Inquisitoria out of Vort, you'll leave behind a power vacuum for all kinds of terrorist groups to come in and overtake your planet during the fight! Then you _really_ won't have a chance to take it back. Not that it would happen anyway." He added, growing tired of the whole ordeal. "And if you so much as touch Irk, the Armada will be here faster than you can blink!"

Urb Yen didn't listen, caught up in her seemingly flawless plan and fantasizing warmly about the planet she missed so much. She snapped her fingers again and the guards moved forward once more, grabbing the sides of Red's chair and dragging him back several feet.

"Woah, woah!" Purple cried out, raising his guard once more. "What are you doing?"

Urb Yen scooted the stepstool over to Red, hoping up on it to ensure she could reach him. "I need room to work." Satisfied with the height, she climbed back down and crossed to Purple, thrusting the reader forward so he could clearly see. A drafted treaty to relinquish control of Vort and 47 other planets flashed across the screen….and an unofficial declaration of war with Inquisitoria.

"I'll release you if you agree to sign it."

"No!"

"Please? I'm asking nicely. Don't you want out of those horrible cords? Don't you want to eat?"

"I'm not signing anything!"

Urb Yen gave him a blink of frustration. "The harder you make this, the worse it will be for your friend. I said I was giving you a chance. If you don't sign, I'll be forced to take drastic measures."

Purple tried not to show fear. He had to be strong for Red. He shook where he sat and was almost positive that the Vortian had noticed. He narrowed his eyes, trying to puff up and intimidate her as best as she could. It didn't seem to work, and she merely shook her head in revulsion at his pathetic attempts.

"Ok." She shrugged, her voice returning to its original menacing tone. "Just remember; what happens to him is your fault. Hope you can live with that."

"What do you mean, what happens?" Purple's voice cracked with panic. "W-Why Red?"

Urb Yen stooped down and grabbed the tray from the ground, poking around at the tools laid expertly before her. She mulled them over with childlike cruelty, selecting a pair of pliers and holding them up clearly for Purple to see. They glinted in the light and Purple's breath hitched in his throat. He felt his pulse escalate rapidly when the sadistic Vortian repositioned herself on the stool, brandishing the tool to tease Red with it. What was that for? What did she have planned? With every shaky breath Purple took, Urb Yen's excitement grew.

"Why, Red, you ask?" She giggled maniacally. "Because he's your weakness. You won't sign? Fine. Remember, we removed both your sedatives. He'll feel everything I do to him. And if that doesn't work, I'll start sending my men down to kill your people."

"Don't listen to her, Pur!" Red's tone grew more wary as she drew closer, trying to shy away from her hands. "She's bluffing about reinforcements. We would have seen them in orbit. My PAK will heal me! I can take whatever she has coming!"

Prisoner 432 tapped on the back of Red's PAK, causing him to jump. "Actually, we're about to fix that, too." He pried the panel cover back off but didn't get far as Red slammed his head back, connecting hard with the Vortian's jaw. He cried out and scrambled back as his hands flew over his mouth, blood dripping through his gloved fingers. He stared wide-eyed up at Urb Yen before pulling out a little fang, dread crossing his face.

"M-my tooth!" He poked his tongue into the now empty socket. "H-he knocked out my tooth!"

Urb Yen growled in fury and snatched Red by the face before grabbing her pistol and rearing back, much to Purple's horror. "Bad boy!" She cried, pistol whipping Red across the cheekbone.

"No! Stop!" Purple pleaded, straining from where he sat. He couldn't do anything! He had to rip her away from Red! There had to be something he could do to stop this! "P-please, he doesn't deserve this!" His pitiful begging did nothing to dissuade the violence.

He fought back tears as Urb Yen continued to mount her first assault against his co-leader, heartless and domineering, releasing cycles upon cycles of pent up rage. Red cried out and tried to bite her, but the Vortian held strong, landing another solid blow in the same place, feeling his bone cave in under her forceful touch. She replaced her pistol in her belt and gripped him tightly. She ruthlessly dug her thumb into the crack forming in his cheekbone, earning another agonizing shriek from her prisoner. She released Red and he panted, scrunching up his face in pain as it was already beginning to swell.

"That's only the beginning for you!" She yelled, throwing herself off of the stool once more. "432, put the pin in!"

Prisoner 432 wiped his now grotesque mouth on the back of his hand before digging into his pocket. He pulled out a tiny plastic pin, reached up, and shoved it hard into Red's PAK. Purple heard something jam and grind to a halt.

"There," Prisoner 432 muttered, cupping his hand under his bleeding mouth as a trail of spit dripped from his chin. "I've blocked the receptors needed for rapid healing. Any injuries sustained to his body will now heal at the normal biological rate without aid from his PAK until the pin is removed."

Urb Yen flashed Purple a grin. "Good." The word flowed terribly from her lips. "You ready to sign yet? Or should we continue? How about I take a tooth for a tooth?"

"Shut up." Red breathed heavily, slumped forward in pain. "Purple, I'll kill you if you sign it." Red blinked slowly, glancing up at him. His eyes were cold. "Forget about me. Think of the Empire."

Purple was absolutely petrified. How could he think of the Empire when everything he held dear was literally being beaten to a pulp before him? He felt a sob rise in his throat and choked it down unsuccessfully, unable to look away from Red's now dull crimson eyes. He couldn't do this. He couldn't do this! He could stop Red's pain, but at what cost? He frantically weighed his options in his mind, bouncing back and forth between two sides of the same burden. If he signed, the Empire would crumble. Everything he and Red worked for would be dissolved in seconds and war would break out across the cosmos. Vort would undoubtedly mount an attack on Irk, and the Inquisitorians would hunt them down for breaking their treaty. Millions of Irkens would be slaughtered and the Smeeteries destroyed. There would be no way they could recover from such a devastating blow. But…Red would live. He sobbed again, unable to process the dire importance of his decision. Pull it together! You have to pull it together! You're Tallest! On the other hand, if he didn't sign, the Empire would remain stable. His people would go unharmed, he hoped, and the New Resisty still had the potential to be stamped out. Red better be right about Urb Yen bluffing about her reinforcements. Red was always right. Purple balled his hands into fists at the sickening conclusion of this alternative. Red would most likely die, and Purple would be forced to watch every excruciating, horrendous second of his torture, knowing it was his fault. He would lose the one being he loved above everyone else in this whole disgusting universe. He couldn't live without Red. He _wouldn't_ live without Red!

"Tick tock!" Urb Yen broke him out of his thoughts and motioned for the Plookesians to help her. "I don't think you're getting my point; let's speed this up a bit, shall we?"

Purple opened his mouth to yell, but Red stopped him, struggling against the strong mechanical hands that forced him down. "Don't! Let it happen, Pur! Don't let her get to you!"

"I can't do this! I-I just can't, Red!" Purple was bawling at this point, all dignity he had left stripped away. "I-I can't lose you! I-I'm nothing w-without you!"

Red thrashed against the Plookesians, but it did little to help. "Would you just listen to me for once, you idiot?!" His crass scolding tone only made Purple spiral further. "You're Tallest! You'll make it through this! Let me take the pain for _us_!"

The guards reached down and pried Red's mouth open, holding him fast to give Urb Yen easy access. He squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for the inevitable agony as his breathing escalated. He gripped the seat hard and planted his feet as well as he could into the floor. Purple saw him tremble slightly; Red was afraid. A stitching emotional pain shot through Purple and continued to chip away at him. Urb Yen ran the hard tip of the pliers across each of Red's teeth, drawing out the wicked anticipation. At her leisure, she gripped firmly at one of Red's canines, tugging lightly to tease him. She motioned for Prisoner 432, who nodded and took the reader from her free hand, allowing her to brace herself against Red's shoulder. He showed it to Purple once more, who wavered, looking from Red to the reader and back again. He…he could do it. He could end this now and spare Red the agony. Purple sniffed and squeezed his eyes shut. No. The pain of failure would burn Red more, and he knew that. He loved him too much to force him to live in a world like the one Urb Yen was threatening. Purple couldn't let his planet undergo a senseless war for this. He forced himself to shake his head, breaking out into another round of soft crying. He couldn't do that to Red. He couldn't do that to Irk. He was chosen as Tallest to lead, not to destroy. Every ounce of his consciousness screamed at him to sign the treaty, to free Red from the horrifying daydream he had trapped them in. But…he couldn't.

Prisoner 432 shrugged uninterestedly and nodded back to his leader.

She sighed and clamped down with the pliers. "Suit yourself."

Purple couldn't look. He kept his eyes screwed shut and flattened his antennae as far as they would go. Red's screaming was the most unbearable sound he had ever heard. Urb Yen drew out the torture, making it last as long as she could and enjoying every second of it. Finally, there was a tiny snap as she freed Red's tooth forcefully from his mouth.

"Would you look at that? You'd think with all the sugar your race has to eat that your teeth would have rotted out."

Purple reluctantly opened his eyes, sickened by what he saw. Bright pink blood oozed lazily down Red's chin to his jacket, staining the fabric. No matter how hard Purple tried, the image imbedded itself in his PAK memory. The strong leader he knew was reduced to nothing. No. Red was still stronger than he could ever know. He took the pain to keep his people safe. To keep Purple safe. There was nothing, _nothing_, stronger than that. Urb Yen held the tooth up like a trophy, Red's blood staining her fingers.

"I might keep this one as payment for what he did to me all those years ago." She winked tauntingly with her bad eye. "Isn't there a saying for that? An eye for a tooth or something?"

"I hate you." Purple breathed, feeling crushed and defeated. He threw another jab at the Vortian, knowing it wouldn't do anything. "When I get out of here, I'm going to make you hurt."

"And I don't care." She tossed the tooth and pliers aside and snapped her fingers in front of Red's face, trying to restore his wavering consciousness. "Yoo-hoo! You still with us?"

She grabbed him by the antennae, pulling his head back to look at him, admiring his now broken smile. Red made a noise in the back of his throat and spat blood in her face, chuckling faintly when she squeaked in abhorrence. Urb Yen immediately dropped him, letting his head hang weakly where he sat, tiny drops of pink blood falling to the tile between his feet. She frantically wiped at her face and goggles, smearing Red's blood over her lenses in frustration.

"You disgusting bastard! You still haven't learned your lesson?!" She smacked Red hard across the shattered bone of his cheek, but he didn't make a sound. The pain was so unbearable he was beginning to go numb.

Urb Yen was growing impatient, and Purple could tell. "Sign the damn treaty! Or do I have to start breaking things?!" She howled in dissatisfaction, sweat mixing with the blood streaked across her forehead. She didn't give Purple a chance to retort before screaming again. "432! Get over here!"

Prisoner 432 scrambled to attention, his own blood beginning to crust on his lips. "Ma'am?" he asked, a bit frightened by the madness lacing her voice.

Urb Yen furiously jabbed at Red's arm. "I'm done with this child's play! He's right-handed. Break him at the elbow!"

Prisoner 432 hesitated and Urb Yen barked at him to continue. He stared at the floor, unsure of himself. "You used to be a doctor! You know how to break things, so do it!"

Purple lunged forward when Prisoner 432 dug a small metal bar out of his deep pocket. Red tried to fight him away but had no success. The Vortian doctor stuck the bar in the crook of his elbow and braced himself. Purple's eyes widened. "Wait-!"

Crack!

Red's pain cut through his exhaustion and he cried out sharply again before clenching his teeth and seething through the torture. He held back his tears and slammed his back hard against the chair, dying for relief but the torment only grew. The break wasn't clean, and he shouted on impulse when the doctor jerked him a few more times before removing the bar.

Purple couldn't stand it any longer when Prisoner 432 massaged his hands over Red's cracked joint, manipulating him and turning his body against him. "Stop! I'll sign it!" Purple blurted out frantically, cracking under the pressure. Maybe if they released him to sign the treaty, he could find a way out of here and save Red's life.

Red's eyes shot up but he struggled to keep his head steady, nearly slumping back down. "Don't…" he slurred, anger fringing his depleted voice. He had a hard time maintaining eye contact and flitted in and out of reality. "If…I have to die for the Empire…fine. That's…that's part of being Tallest."

Purple stiffened when Urb Yen clapped her hands together. "Good! I'm glad you see it my way, love! You might be smarter than I thought!" She gave him a wary side glance. "No bluffing, now. Wouldn't want your friend to lose a few fingers."

"Purple…don't you dare betray your Empire." Red growled incoherently. His words were inarticulate as he pleaded with Purple to reconsider, blinded by the searing heat in his arm. "You're…going against everything it means to be Tallest!"

The two Plookesian guards positioned themselves on either side of Purple. Oh, Irk, what was he doing?! He had no real intention of signing the treaty, but as far as Urb Yen knew, she had broken him. He had to play along, and he had to make it convincing.

Red's ferocity began to return when he saw Purple was serious. He spat in his direction and strained against the cords, forcing Prisoner 432 away from him out of fear. "You coward! You'll ruin everything we ever worked for!"

Purple swallowed at the harsh, soul-crushing insults Red threw his way. The Plookesians set to work on his wrists, eyeing him suspiciously with keen gazes. Purple couldn't try anything…yet. He tried to think of something but kept drawing a blank. There was always a way out, he just had to find it. Red continued to scream furiously at him.

"I should have suffocated you when I had the chance!" Red drove his insults deeper under Purple's skin. "I can't believe I trusted you! Why are you doing this?!"

The Plookesians freed one of Purple's wrists and he stretched his arm out, trying desperately to block out the deeply hurtful words Red battered him with. "Shut up, Red." He warned, hiding the effort it took to say it. He had to make it look real but couldn't deny how excruciating the crushing affronts were. This was the hardest thing Purple had ever done; trick Red into thinking he was betraying them all. He wanted to yell back; scream that he was trying to save them and the whole of the Empire, but he bit his tongue and took it. Each word cut deeper and deeper into his consciousness, slowly severing the cord of rationality they found there. Purple held his breath. Don't say anything. You only have one chance at this. If you blow it Red will die.

"The Control Brains were wrong about you! You should never have been Tallest!"

Maintain your composure. Don't say anything. No matter how much it hurts, don't say anything.

"This is all your fault! We wouldn't be in this mess if you had just listened to me!" Red paused to take a breath but continued with growing intensity.

Keep calm. He doesn't mean it. "Shut up!"

"You're a traitor, Purple! A fucking traitor!"

Keep. Calm. He doesn't…he doesn't mean it. "Be quiet, Red!"

"Why are you doing this to me?!"

Purple couldn't stand it anymore. Without thinking he squeezed his eyes shut and yelled as something deep and hidden boiled over the surface, spilling out against his will. "BECAUSE I LOVE YOU!"

Purple froze and felt his expression go blank. His jaw slackened and he couldn't breathe against the realization of what he had just done. Had he…? Oh, shit. No. He felt cold, afraid to move as a squashing silence fell over the room. Red stopped his verbal onslaught and stared forward, a look of unnerving confusion slowly coming over his features. Another small trickle of blood spilled form the corner of his mouth, but he ignored it, keeping his eyes firmly glued on Purple.

"W-what does that have to do with anything? Of course you do. You're my best friend."

Red's voice was plain and puzzled, the fury leaking away to be replaced with denial for what he couldn't accept as true. It echoed over and over in Purple's antennae as he stared at the floor. Tears welled back up in his eyes and stung but he still couldn't bring himself to look up. His face burned with a mixture of deathly humiliation and dread of what was to come next. Red simply stared at him, digging into his very core with those eyes Purple loved and reviled at the same time.

Urb Yen's irritating laughter broke the silence. "This is hilarious! Forced to betray his planet _and_ confess to his immoral, pathetic love?" She whistled.

The Plookesians continued their work on Purple's other wrist, snickering to themselves when they noticed the mortification pouring off of their prisoner. Purple kept his head down as he cried silently to himself. Even if they got out now, nothing would ever be the same. He'd ruined everything. Red would hate him. He'd give him up to the Control Brains and they would strip him of his rank as Tallest. This was the end he always knew they would come to, but always pushed away. He was going to get deactivated for a part of him that wasn't even rooted in his PAK; it was rooted in his biology.

"Purple, what is she saying?" Red's voice grew steadily more urgent as he tried to lean forward, worry and concern overtaking him. He'd forgotten about his anger almost completely. "What does she mean, _confess_?"

Purple shook his head and blinked rapidly, scalding tears falling to his lap. He couldn't say anything else. There was no way he would sacrifice the rest of his dignity in front of all of these creatures. He didn't care what they did with him now. The New Resisty could burn him alive for all he cared. Anything would be better than the profound, fractured, hollow feeling he now held at his core. Purple felt his other wrist disconnect from his seat and he immediately hugged his arms into his chest, crumpling into himself. He reached up and covered his face with his hands, hiding himself from the rest of the world but still feeling all of their judging stares pressing in on him. His shoulders began to quake with each silent sob and he felt miniscule and unmasked, every emotion and thought he worked to snuff out flooding back all at once. It made him dizzy and disoriented. He wanted to get out of here. He wanted to leave this horrible place and never come back. He wanted to take back what he said. He wanted Red to stop staring at him. All these things ran through Purple's mind in rapid succession. The Plookesians stooped and set to work on his ankles, Urb Yen watching in delighted satisfaction.

"For someone so logical and observant, you're so thick." She said lowly, leaning over Red's good shoulder, gripping his shoulder blades with her sharp claws. "He _loves_ you. He wants you to play cute tall husbands together and have a sappy storybook ending out in space." She sniggered. "Your co-Tallest is a _defective_."

"Defective?"

Red's voice was indecipherable as he repeated the word. Purple waited for more verbal abuse, but it never came. He felt like Urb Yen was pitting them against each other and tearing down the trust they had built up over all these cycles. The worst part? She was right. Slowly, he sniffed and pulled away from his hands, ever so gradually looking up to meet Red's eyes. He wasn't angry, but there was something else that tinted his gaze that hurt even worse; doubt. Purple looked away again as he was finally freed from his bonds. The Plookesians stood threateningly over him, electric pokers ready should he try anything dubious. Purple's muscles hurt as he shakily pushed himself up on unsteady feet, stiff and rubbed raw by the cords. Red watched him, dumbfounded and unable to speak.

"Thank you for your cooperation." Urb Yen grinned provocatively. "Now, follow me and we'll get this over with."

Purple blinked, his eyes sore. "What?" His voice was horse. "Can't I just sign it here?"

She shook her head and pulled her pistol from its holster, pointing it threateningly in his direction. "No. We can't have you trying to free him. I don't trust you." She nodded to Red, who was still motionless, bloody and speechless. "He's our collateral should you do anything I don't like. You make one wrong move and he ends up like Skleg over there."

Purple glanced nervously at Skleg's lifeless body in the corner before looking back to Red. Then, an idea hit him. It was small, a spark of something deeper that took over his anguish and burned it away like a star. He loved Red. He said the sentence over and over in his head and everything finally fell into place. He _loved_ Red. He wasn't just Purple's co-Tallest or friend; Red was part of who he was. Red's strength, confidence, and incredible intelligence was part of him. Determination washed back over Purple as he truly came to terms with what that meant. Love went further than any physical or emotional attachment he felt. It was full of sacrifice. If Red wanted to give him over to the Control Brains, then fine. That wouldn't stop Purple from loving him until his death. He would deactivate himself a thousand times over to save Red's life. He knew now that it didn't matter if they could ever be intimate with one another. It didn't matter if they couldn't hold hands or sleep in the same bed. It didn't even matter if they would even speak after all of this. What mattered was saving Red from this horrible place. His life was above all others and no matter what happened, Purple would make sure he kept it. He was still terrified, but he could do this if it meant protecting the love of his life. All he needed was a plan.

Purple held himself high and nodded to Urb Yen. "Show me where I need to go." His tone was steady and resolute.

"W-wait!" Red stuttered as they began to leave, craning his neck as far as he could to keep his eyes on Purple. "You don't have to do this! I-I'm not worth the whole Empire!"

Purple didn't look back. "You're worth everything I have, Red." He paused. "Trust me." He hoped Red would understand what he was getting at but didn't have time to make sure.

The door closed behind them and Urb Yen guided Purple to the room directly across the hallway, her pistol trained rigidly on his chest. He still didn't have a plan. As she fiddled with the control panel outside the door, he peeked around and took a tentative step back. One of the guards grunted and shoved the poker in his side, forcing him to throw up his hands in defense and give them a cheesy smile. The Plookesian raised a brow, huffed in annoyance, and turned back to face Urb Yen. That was close. Come on, there had to be something out here he could use. Purple glanced down the long corridor, careful not to alert the guards. The doors were propped open as four Meekrob soldiers moved supplies in from their ship. Wait…their ship? There was a ship! Purple practically shouted as he watched the soldiers move back and forth, the doors of their bright pearlescent ship beckoning to be hijacked. Thank Irk! Maybe the universe didn't hate him! Purple tried to think back but couldn't remember a time when he had worked on a Meekrob ship; he wasn't even sure how to fly one or what the internal compartment of the cockpit looked like. The ship was blinding white and Purple knew that the moment he got it in the air, they would be easily tracked. It was going to be a stretch, but he had to find a way to get Red out and to that ship.

He jumped when the door whooshed open and he was forced through it by heavy hands. Urb Yen signaled for the guards to wait outside and they complied, eyeing Purple meticulously before leaving without a word. The doors slammed behind them, leaving him alone with the steely, unstable Vortian. The room was dim, cramped, and completely empty besides the internal controls for the door.

Urb Yen turned, keeping her pistol close to her body as she chewed on her tongue. She unlocked the screen of the reader and thrust it forward. "Take off your gloves and sign with your fingerprint." She demanded. "And don't try anything. I'm not afraid to shoot you, as you already know."

Purple complied. He slowly worked off his gloves and dropped them to the ground, reaching forward and tentatively taking the reader from her delicate hands. Now would be a great time to work out the details of his plan. He stared down at the reader then looked back up at Urb Yen, deciding to bide more time. He needed to get her guard down.

"Where do I put my finger?"

She rolled her eyes. "On the line, you idiot."

"Where's the line?"

"At the bottom of the page! Scroll down!"

"Mm…I still don't see it."

Purple watched her groan and step forward, lowering her pistol slightly. She may have gotten this far, but she really was an idiot. She reached out slowly with her free hand to point out the fingerprint scanner and Purple readied himself. If this plan didn't work, he was absolutely doomed. He felt every muscle in his body tense and scream when Urb Yen's finger touched the screen. He had to do it now!

Purple dropped the reader and lunged forward. Urb Yen tried to scream but he clamped a hand hard over her mouth. Her pistol flew to the side as he threw himself on top of her, effectively immobilizing her against the ground. She fought and clawed, ripping at the sides of his jacket and shredding the fabric. Purple winced as her nails dug into his skin like tiny knives. She reached up and snatched him by the jaw, pushing back hard and scratching at anything she could get her hands on, leaving thin cuts across his face. He held fast, keeping her from alerting the guards just outside the door. He had to end it. He forced his hands around her tiny neck, and tore his gaze away, squeezing his eyes shut as he felt her gag and suffocate underneath his ferocious grip. She kicked wildly as he wrung her, slamming her head against the tile repeatedly and knocking the remaining breath from her chest. Her eyes rolled back in her skull and she coughed, battling to take in a breath but only growing shakier as she couldn't. Her face darkened as the blood rushed to her head. She swatted and grabbed frantically at Purple's hands, slicing his fingers but unable to throw him off. Her grip grew weaker and a thin trail of saliva ran from the corner of her mouth, her thin legs reduced to a twitch. Suddenly, her strength faded completely, and her hands fell limply to her sides, kicking a few more times. Then, nothing. Purple opened his eyes, unsure if it was over, holding her still for a few long seconds to be sure. She didn't move. She was warm under his touch when he pulled away, revealing the deep black bruises that had already formed around her fragile neck. His hands shot back as he jumped up from her body, the reality of what he had done overtaking him. Urb Yen was dead. He'd choked her to death.

Purple never thought he would have to kill anyone with his own two hands. They didn't feel like his anymore. Urb Yen had slipped away so fast and it felt different than he had expected. Actually, he didn't feel much of anything. There was no sickening feeling in his spooch or regret lingering in the back of his mind. There was a penetrating detachment that washed over him, blocking out the horror of the scene below him and pushing him to keep moving like a machine. But, he couldn't move. The longer he stood over the Vortian body growing colder beneath him, the more he came to his senses. He didn't need senses right now. He needed to keep going for Red and the Empire. He took a shallow, shaky breath and forced himself to step over Urb Yen's lifeless body, grabbing her plasma pistol from the ground. He didn't want it, but he didn't have a choice. He was going to have to distract the guards and shoot them. The computer panel on the wall seemed promising, giving him an anchor to focus on. He'd come too far to break down again. Purple looked it over for a second, running through his PAK for any information he could find about standard internal computer systems. He found an override code he and Red were privileged to use as Tallest and punched it into the keypad.

"Welcome. State your name and rank." The tiny device instructed in a chipper voice.

"Almighty Tallest Purple." He hissed, scared the guards would come bursting through the doors any minute. "Cut all power to the research station."

The computer recognized his voice and gave a little ding of approval. Almost immediately, the room went pitch black. Silence roared in Purple's antennae but was quickly broken when the Plookesian guards outside began to shout in uncertainty, followed by the voices of the four Meekrob soldiers as they bumped into each other further down the hallway. There was a loud mechanical creak as the locking mechanism of the door shut down, swinging itself open. Purple strained to see in the darkness, his ocular implants flicking on with a blink. He could barely see the outline of the two guards as they felt their way into the room.

"Ma'am?" One of them called.

Purple held his breath and pressed himself to the wall, his pulse quickening as one of the guards came inches from his face. He shifted his weight to the door, taking light footsteps and praying he didn't make a sound.

"What?! There's a body!" The other guard called out, sounding alarm bells in Purple's head. Time to go.

He made a mad dash for the room across the hall as the Meekrob soldiers left their post, careening down the hallway to the room where Urb Yen lay dead. He forced the door closed and turned, squinting frantically through the darkness until he spotted Red. He sprinted over, dropping himself in front of his friend.

"Red?" He whispered urgently in the darkness, placing his hands on his knees. "It's me. We have to go! I found a ship!"

"Purple?" Red hissed back, obviously pained. "I thought they were going to kill you!"

Purple shook his head, unsure if Red could actually see him. He felt around the floor, his fingertips bumping the metal tray Urb Yen had used earlier. He finally found a scalpel and stuffed the pistol in his waistband before reaching up, making quick work of the electrical cords that held Red down but careful not to cut him in the process.

"I didn't sign the treaty." Purple explained hastily, freeing Red's ankles then moving up to his wrists, careful with his broken arm. "I was never going to."

Red whimpered when Purple stood and grabbed him around the shoulders, helping him lean against him to stand. Red clutched at his arm as the two moved in slow, uneven steps as fast as they could towards the door.

"Thank Irk…" Red breathed, putting his weight on Purple's shoulder. "I'm proud of you."

There was a rustle in the room and Purple stopped cold in his tracks. There was someone else here. He held tight to Red, who also sensed the disturbance. All of a sudden, a bright light blinded them both as a headlamp clicked on, forcefully illuminating the room. Prisoner 432 glared back at them in the darkness, Red's knife in his hand.

"Where's Urb Yen?" He asked darkly, grip tightening on the handle of the blade. His eyes went wide when he noticed the magenta pistol in Purple's waistband.

"I killed her." Purple's voice was plain and matter of fact. They couldn't catch a break. He drew the pistol and took aim, hoping the Vortian would just back off. "Let us leave. Now."

Pain and sorrow overcame Prisoner 432's face. "First you put Lard Nar on trial, and then you murder Urb Yen?" He clenched his teeth together, a tiny hole clearly visible from where Red had bashed his tooth out. "You can't get away with murder! I won't let you!"

Purple took aim and fired as Prisoner 432 charged forward, hitting him in the shoulder and dropping him to the ground. He wailed in pain and clutched at his shoulder as Purple forced the door open and helped Red out. His eyes flew wildly about the corridor. The outside doors were still propped open and the Meekrob ship was in his line of sight. Purple forced Red along, half dragging him to their escape. Behind them the Meekrob soldiers screeched and gave chase. Purple panted, letting go of Red and slamming the outside door shut, feeling a soldier smack hard into the firm paneling. The air was freezing outside, and the trees groaned in the wind. It was nighttime again. Purple practically threw Red through the open hatch of the little Meekrob ship, struggling to pull it shut behind him. The cramped cockpit was highly advanced and nothing like he had ever seen. Buttons and levers littered the dash, each unlabeled and presumably for different functions in flight. He wasn't even sure how to start the damn thing. The Meekrob burst through the door, followed by the Plookesians. He had to hotwire it and fast. Red groaned from where he lay haphazardly in the passenger seat, fighting with himself to stay awake. Think! Purple kicked ferociously at the bottom panel under the console of the steering unit, breaking it free. A mess of wires tumbled out and he recognized a few of them as being Irken made. This ship had recently had work done on the Irken black market. He bent down and tore one of the yellow wires with his teeth before doing the same to another. He held his breath in heated anticipation as he thrust the two foreign ends together. They sparked at the contact and the lights of the cockpit whirred on followed by an unnerving motorized voice spouting frustrating amounts of Meekrob speech. He didn't have time to translate it. The Meekrob soldiers pounded at the door outside and a jolt of sizzling electricity shot through the ship as the Plookesians attempted to fry the hatch open. Purple frantically strapped Red in and threw himself down in the pilot's seat. He still had no idea what he was doing. He flipped what looked like an ignition, but nothing happened. He smashed more buttons, feverishly pressing anything he vaguely recognized. Finally, he did something right and felt the ship jostle as the landing gear ascended into the hatch. The ship sputtered to life as the thrusters fired instantaneously, the ship rocketing from the ground and over the treetops. Purple yelled and threw his hands on the clutch, pulling up sharply as the canopy of the forest scraped and clawed at the bottom of the ship, threatening to drag them back down. Finally, he was able to gain altitude. They leveled out and glided silently through the night sky, leaving the research station behind in their wake.

For the first time in hours, Purple slumped back and took a full, uninhibited breath. He did it…he got them out. He gave a nervous chuckle that soon grew into uncontrollable giddy laughter. They were alive! Fuck, they were _actually_ alive!

"Red!" He cried, out of breath. "W-we made it! I'm going to get you help."

Red said nothing and Purple glanced over, a pang of fear shooting up his spine. Red was breathing but was out like a light. Purple swallowed. It didn't matter now. He was going to get them back to the capitol. He gave Red a soft smile, but it faded as worry crept back into his mind. Red knew everything he'd hidden away for years. What did that mean for them now?

A bright flash of crimson light shot through the cockpit as a deafening warning screamed out. Red shot forward, startled by the commotion. His gaze bounced around the ship before landing on Purple, fear plastered over his swollen face. The ship lurched and jumped in the air as Purple fought to remain in control but felt it slipping away. Someone was overriding and corrupting the ship.

"They're jamming us!" Red yelled over the antennae-splitting noise. "We have to land or we're going to crash!"

"Crash?!" Purple yelled back. He scanned the treetops for a place to bring them down but there was no clearing in sight, only darkness.

Without warning, the lights of the tiny ship flickered and snuffed out. The plasma core stalled and came to a roaring stop. The two gave a joint scream as the ship went completely offline and took a nosedive towards the trees. Purple pulled up on the controls, but the ship was unresponsive, plummeting the two to their fate. As the ground grew closer, Red's good hand flew up to a lever above the center console.

"I'm going to eject the cockpit!" He cried, locking eyes with Purple a final time. "Do you trust me?!"

Purple squeezed his eyes shut and nodded, letting go of the controls and pulling hard on his safety belt. He gripped the side rail of the seat and clenched every muscle in his body, ready for the crushing weight of air pressure that was about to wrack their bodies.

Red gripped the lever and pressed himself as far back as he could go, counting down from three. "Three, two, one!"

* * *

**_Irken-Inquisitorian Treaty_: If I remember this was in issue 39 of the Invader Zim comic series. This states that any planet marked for Inquisitorian research, even within the Irken Empire, is permitted to be taken by the Inquisitorian people for peaceful research purposes.

A shit ton happened here. I'm tired now. I have to go to work and ink comics in the morning. Why do I stay up late and do this to myself? Love you all and please drop a review. Appreciate ya!


	7. What Are We?

To the reviewer **Lucita**; Wow, thanks! When I designed Urb Yen, I designed her for people to be repulsed by her. Glad you liked her, though! If you want to draw her, sure. I'd be happy to collaborate with you! I work part time at a publishing company in Ontario inking comics and I have a stupid little sketch of her on my corkboard above my desk. She's the unofficial office mascot now, according to the team. Tausend Dank Lucita!

Welcome **EasternAsia** to the followers list! I appreciate you, love!

We're also going to cool our violent jets this chapter. Breathe while you can and prepare for awkward talks.

* * *

By the time Red opened his eyes Irk's suns were peaking over the treetops, fanning their deceivingly frosty fingers over the forest. He couldn't remember much of what happened and every tiny move he made was excruciating. His arm hurt like hell and the metallic taste of blood in his mouth refused to go away. Each breath revealed more unseen cracks and breaks. If he thought his back was already bad, he couldn't wait for what this whole ordeal was going to bring for the future. He could vaguely remember the ship crashing and the cockpit ejecting. The sound of metal burning and popping in the heat reverberated through his memory followed by a brief flash of Purple, bloodstained and battered, using his last bit of strength to heave him from the wreckage. Red blinked and tried to shake the fuzzy swimming feeling from his head, afraid to move from where he sat propped against something firm and cold. Where exactly _was_ he? It took him a moment to realize he was under a rocky overhang, a deep gash of exposed rock bed in the middle of the soggy forest. He could see the residual black smoke from the wreckage far in the distance, curling high into the air as single enemy ship circled the area over the crash site. Someone had dragged him all that way through the impossibly thick brush. The effort alone would kill you.

He had to move, instinct to keep on his feet overcoming the fogginess in his mind. Red clenched his teeth, becoming painfully aware of the empty socket that once housed his canine. His jaw and cracked cheekbone ached, and a dull throbbing radiated up the back of his neck. Even when he could fix his PAK, he knew his tooth wouldn't grow back. He could hardly see out of his left eye from where he'd been clocked with Urb Yen's pistol and the entire length of his spine felt tender. The jagged break in his elbow crunched against itself as he attempted to lean forward. He took a sharp inhale and froze, gingerly lowering himself back down. There was no way he was getting up like this. Stupid Vortian bitch taking his sedatives! His mouth watered at the idea of his PAK shooting the liquid painkiller into his bloodstream, and he pushed away the desperate thought. At least Purple had the guts to end her life. Wait…where was Purple?

Purple was so quiet Red hadn't noticed him. He stood with his back to Red at the mouth of the overhang, unmoving and intently focused on the sounds of the forest around him. He kept both of his hands on Urb Yen's pistol as he pointedly surveyed the landscape, antennae twitching at every rustle of foliage and unknown call. His clothes were stained with a mixture of both of their blood, but his PAK had already healed him back to physical health. Despite being patched up, he looked cold and shivered in his tattered jacket. Purple yawned blearily and turned to the side, catching sight of Red with tired eyes. A tiny smile peaked on his soiled face and Red was almost positive he hadn't slept through the night.

"You're awake." Purple said simply, keeping his hands planted firmly on his gun. He crossed back to where Red was sitting and lowered himself down next to him, slumping back with an expended sigh. "They keep patrolling, but I don't think they know where we are."

He must mean the New Resisty. Just fantastic. Of course, Red should have expected them to give chase. They were probably shaking in their ships, terrified that he and Purple would make it back to the Armada somehow, and that made Red nervous. Without his transmitter, they were completely cut off from the outside and Prisoner 432, even if he was incapacitated at the moment, would probably still have access to pose as them. There was no telling what havoc he could impose on the Massive and the Armada…or on Irk. For all he knew, Inquisitoria could be hanging venomously in their atmosphere, ready to pummel the surface of the planet at their false noncompliance. Not knowing what was happening out in the world put Red's spooch in knots. His attention shot back to Purple, who's concerned look ate at him. He'd pulled Red all those miles by himself and there was no telling how difficult that must have been. It was no secret that Purple wasn't known for his physical or emotional strength in the Empire. He was book smart but Red always thought he would lack the necessary skills and experience to survive on his own. He had been completely wrong. Purple had saved his life twice now on intuition alone, proving himself as a formidable and competent leader. Red couldn't help but feel a tiny swell of pride bubble up in him as he examined Purple's now battle-hardened, but benevolent, face. There was something different about him now; a new confidence in his own unknown abilities shone deeply in his brilliant amethyst eyes. The way he looked at Red was gentle and doting, but what he had done would come at a price. Purple would have the flashbacks and sleepless nights Red had suffered with for half of his life, and he would never be able to push away the nagging feeling of his last murder trying to consume him. Red still felt it himself. But they were alive and together, and that's what mattered. The silence between them droned on, but Red didn't care, surmounted by the relief that he hadn't lost his best friend. Best friend? Oh no. Suddenly he remembered Purple's confession and felt his antennae twitch at the disconcerting memory, the feeling of pride fading to be replaced with an overpowering unease. He hadn't had time to process it before and it all came flooding back, digging deep into his subconscious like a drill. Was he even allowed to call them friends anymore? How long had Purple been watching him in…_that_ way? Red diverted his gaze down, trying to find something else to focus on as he wracked his brain over vehement emotions he had never felt before. He'd always thought Purple was unusual, but everything made sense now and Red wished he was still oblivious. The familiarity and closeness they had shared all of these cycles suddenly felt immoral. All of the affection and touching Purple had given him made him feel manipulated, deceived, and blind to a motive he never thought would have been there. Did anyone else see it? Urb Yen had obviously known, so who else around them picked up on it too? What if their advisory team thought they were secretly a couple? Red stifled a gag and cursed himself for not seeing it sooner, drowning in his own bewilderment and feeling his face grow hot for some reason. None of this made any sense. What were they now?

"Are you ok? How do you feel?" Purple set the pistol aside and reached out to stroke Red's good arm. He hesitated and stopped himself a few inches away before curling his fingers back, unsure if he was allowed to touch him anymore.

Red noticed and shifted uncomfortably, accidentally signaling Purple to stay away. "Awful. I'll be fine when we get that pin out of my PAK." He winced and cleared his throat, trying to smother his unnerving thoughts. He was so thirsty. "Do we have anything to drink?"

Purple repositioned himself to face Red, thankful that he decided to change the subject for now. "No, but I did search the ship after we crashed." He dug into his pocket and pulled out a foreign snack package with a soft smile. "Here; I already ate mine. I don't really know what it is, but it's gross."

Red reached up to take it but struggled to lift his good arm, anemic and overexerted from the torture. "Dammit!" He gritted his teeth and gave up, irritation and humiliation stabbing at him. He wasn't as strong as he had been in his prime.

Purple hushed him tenderly and chuckled, trying to lighten the mood but failing. He tore open the package, shrinking back at the instantaneous unpleasant sour smell. "Sorry…If you eat it all at once it's not as bad." He brought the small Meekrobian cake to Red's lips and waited patiently. His hands shook at their closeness, and he kept his gaze subtle but still noticeably amorous. "Open."

Red felt himself begin to sweat despite the frigid air. He willed himself to calm, trying to hide the progressively darkening shade splaying across his cheeks. What was this curious feeling? He wanted to push Purple back and keep far away from him for the rest of their days, never to see him again. But that wasn't an option. Reluctantly, he opened his mouth and Purple flinched, hesitating.

"Oh, Red. Your tooth." He breathed, leaning in slightly to examine Red's broken smile. "I-I'm sorry."

"Would you just give it to me?" Red snapped fervently, not caring when Purple's expression appeared wounded and trying to mask his own peculiar discomfort. Purple placed the cake on Red's tongue and moved back, stuffing the wrapper in his pocket.

Purple was right; whatever this was, it was absolutely disgusting. It hurt to chew, but Red couldn't show any more weakness than he already had. He forced himself to swallow and shuddered at the chalky taste, shooting Purple a hostile glare when he heard a tiny laugh.

"What are you laughing at?" He growled, resentment rapidly returning. Purple had no right to laugh after he'd put them through all of this. He was awful sometimes and, right now, Red wanted him to see that.

Purple pressed his fingertips to his lips and giggled again, unable to help himself. "Sorry. It's just your face is funny."

Red was so close to the edge. If Purple didn't shut his mouth, he was sure he would come unglued and lay into him. "I hate you." He muttered tensely under his breath, almost too sincerely. The sudden shift in his mood alarmed even him. "You want to laugh at me after everything you've put me through?"

Purple blinked, shocked at the abrupt authenticity of Red's spiteful tone. His amusement faded and the color drained from his face as he sputtered. "O-oh! No, I didn't mean it like that! I just-"

"Yeah, and what _did_ you mean it like? You're apparently great at lying to me, so how can I really know?" Red refused to let him speak, disappointment and resentment cutting the mood like a knife. He was furious at how lightly Purple was taking all of this and how he kept tiptoeing around the weight hanging over them both.

Purple ran a hand over the side of his face. He fidgeted distastefully under Red's firm glower and clamped his mouth shut. "Geez, I just laughed. That's all." He mumbled, knowing where Red was going with all of this but not ready to face it. He took a small breath and his voice came out as barely a whisper. "And I never lied to you."

"Oh, forgive me, _my Tallest_!" Red's voice escalated with every harsh jab. "You're right! You didn't lie to me! You just hid everything for cycles and used me to satisfy your gross affections whenever you wanted!" He watched as Purple shrunk into himself, hugging his arms into his chest and taking Red's words like enemy fire.

Purple opened his mouth to say something but only shook his head, absolutely mortified and unsure what to say to diffuse the banter before it spiraled out of control. Were they really going to do this _now_? He wasn't ready; this wasn't how he envisioned this conversation going the thousands of times he had run through it with himself. In fact, he never thought he would have to have this talk, hoping it would have stayed hidden. He knew Red was right and the crushing shame of what he had done weighed heavily on his back. He sniffed and tried not to show Red the satisfaction of making him cry. Purple knew that's what he wanted, and he couldn't undergo any more emotional stress right now. It was tearing him apart and he wasn't sure how much more he could take without pushing himself over the dangerous precipice he was walking. His PAK beeped, a warning to his rising stress levels and the sound only seemed to agitate Red further.

"Can I take the pin out of your PAK?" He tried to dance around the subject once more, voice trembling a bit. "I don't want to see you in pain anymore."

Red couldn't allow him to escape the inescapable sinkhole Purple had thrown them into. "No. I don't want your hands near me." He tried to hold Purple's gaze but found it difficult when he kept looking away. "Do you know how dangerous you are to me, Purple?" Red couldn't bring himself to use his pet name anymore.

"I'm not dangerous." Purple whispered, obviously hurt. "Please, just let me fix you."

Red huffed and shook his head. Purple wasn't listening as usual. He always ran away from what bothered him and only thought about himself. "Fine! Whatever! But don't touch anything else!" Red wanted his words to sting, but he also needed the horrendous ache in his body to go away.

Purple worked awkwardly from a distance, scared to move any closer to Red and for good reason. It took every fiber of Red's morality not to grab the plasma pistol and crack him across the face to show him what it felt like. He heard a tiny pop as the casing of his PAK was carefully pried open, followed by the unclean feeling of Purple's long fingers reaching in and fumbling with his internal components. Red tried not to think about it, holding his breath at the feeling of Purple's invasive but tender touch. As soon as the pin was gone, his body could finally heal, and he could deal with this whole issue with a renewed clarity. He wanted to hurt Purple for what he had done. Red wanted him to feel the sharp burn of betrayal that seared him from the inside out. Even if they were still co-Tallest, he felt like he was losing his friend and that was worse than any physical pain he was put through.

There was a strange pressure followed by the distinctive click of metal on metal. His PAK whirred back to life and Red could feel an immediate difference as it got to work regenerating his broken body. He sighed as a soothing warmth radiated over his spine and coated him from head to toe in speedy relaxation. It would be a while until he was ready to move again, but at least the process was started. He eyed Purple distrustfully as he gingerly closed the hatch to his PAK, stood, and crossed to the mouth of the overhang. With a sudden burst of untamed rage, he cried out in frustration and chucked the pin as far as he could into the forest before clenching his fists and kicking hard at the dirt. Red watched as he threw a mini tantrum, cursing out loud to himself and releasing every maddening emotion he still had trapped inside. Purple's profanities grew worse by the second and he threw his hands out in front of him in an unknown irate gesture, having some kind of bizarre internal argument between his conscious and subconscious. It was repulsive and unbelievably immature.

"Shut the hell up and get back over here." Red demanded impatiently, not letting the intensity slip from his voice now that the pin was gone. "We need to talk, Purple, and you know it!"

Purple's demeanor changed out of fear and desperation for the conversation to come. "You think I don't know that, Red?" He had worked himself up again. "I don't want to talk about it, right now!" He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, reeling himself back in. "Just focus on getting better and we can talk later."

"You're so immature! Be an adult for once and come over here! We can't pretend that everything is alright because it's not!"

Red didn't want to talk about this anymore than his companion. He wasn't good with emotions or feelings and never really understood them in other beings. Sure, he had them, but he kept them under lock and key in the back of his mind. The only things he allowed himself to feel wholly were always bad; anger, resentment, hunger, betrayal, fear, greed. They were highly physical and he could deal with them, but every time he was forced to face the good things in life, such as romantic attachment, he shied away. Those emotions were always too intense for him to handle and he would run from them every chance he got. Every relationship in his past, business and romantic, always ended badly with him expecting too much of the other party to the point that they would either fight him or leave him. Red could never make sense of why and chocked it up to him being created naturally cold and callous. He couldn't deny that it bothered him a little inside when he saw others able to be so unrestrained and open with themselves and those they cared about. Maybe he was just scared of getting hurt by someone else worse than what he could do to himself…and what Purple had done was excruciating.

"I told you I don't want to talk!" Purple's guard was going up and Red could feel the tension between them rise to dangerous levels. "Leave me alone."

Red rolled his eyes, more annoyed than indignant at this point. "You lost your right to keep quiet when this became about us both."

"Shut up! Don't try to tell me about rights, Red! We're on equal ground and I don't have to listen to you if I don't want to!"

"That's just it, Purple!" Red tried to force down the deep hurt in him that kept coming up, masking it as wrath instead. "I thought we were equal, but we aren't! You always get what you want, and I always have to deal with the consequences of your actions! _You_ gave me the idea to keep going into the Florpus. _You_ wanted to drag us out here. _You_ wanted to trust that Vortian. And, apparently, _you've_ been touching me all this time without my permission all because of your selfish love attachment! Do you know how wrong all this makes me feel!? I was tortured by Vortians to keep you safe and you don't even care about that!"

"Of course I care!" Purple yelled back, anguish creeping back into his voice as he stomped back, glaring down at Red from above. "I saved your life twice! _Twice_! Would I have done that if I didn't care?!"

Red took a breath and continued, unable to filter the words that flew shrilly from his mouth. "No, you _don't_ care! You wouldn't have to save my life if you didn't keep putting us in danger! I told you about my addiction to try and help you feel more comfortable with talking to me. Was that all for nothing? You never want to talk out your problems and it pisses me off! Do you know how hard it was for me to talk about mine?! How are we equal if all you do is take and take and fucking take?!"

"Don't give me that!" Purple jabbed a harsh finger down at him, refusing to look away. "You hid your addiction from me! How can you get mad at me for hiding something when you have all these secrets too?!"

"Yeah, yeah I did drugs. So what?! I barely knew you existed back then, so it wasn't even your problem! At least I didn't hide that I was _defective_!"

Purple's eyes widened in abrupt fury at Red's abuse and his voice dropped to a low, threatening, rumble. He leaned further down over Red who couldn't help but feel a pang of dread shoot through him. He'd never seen Purple look this terrifyingly furious before, and he fought silently with him to take back control of the situation. He lost.

"Let me tell you something, Red." Purple's tone was unchanging and sinister, and he was practically spitting in Red's face. "I thought for so long that my PAK was defective. I realized when I saw you sitting there getting ripped apart by those Vortians that I was wrong. It's not my PAK that's defective; it's my head. You can fix a PAK. A brain is different." He didn't pull back, holding firm over the Irken below him and making him feel small. "I hate myself every day for what I've kept hidden from you. I hate what I've done to you and how selfish I've been. I hate myself for looking at you the way that I have and for wishing we could be something when I know we can't. Do you know what it feels like to wake up everyday and not know if you're going to be found out, and be deactivated for something you can't fix? Sometimes I wish I could get it over with and be done. It would be better than living a lie."

Silence. Red was entirely dismayed, reduced to rubble and unable to keep up his front. He felt like his mind was shorting out with all of the information being shoved down his throat and all he could do was gawk up at him. Purple felt like this every day? Red remembered Purple's fear after they almost died in the Florpus. That's why he wanted to get away from the Massive…he couldn't stand the thought of losing Red. How could he have been so stupid? Red's mind went back to how weary and abandoned he felt the moment he decided to overdose and end his life. Did…did all of these thoughts make Purple feel like that? Purple had been so supportive when he admitted his addiction and here he was trying to tell Red how he felt while Red pushed him further away. He wasn't sure what was what anymore. This was all so alien to him, remote territory of the Irken psyche he had never even thought of setting foot in. They were Tallest. They were supposed to be worrying about which race to conquer next, not fighting about something as difficult to understand as _love_. Two males couldn't love each other; the Control Brains had deemed it law long ago. The highest form of logic in their known universe couldn't be wrong…could they? Wait, what was he thinking? Of course they couldn't be wrong! The Control Brains were omnipotent and no Irken had ever questioned their judgement besides Zim. But still, here Purple was, the epitome of everything the Control Brains were claiming was hazardous to the future of Irken society. That too didn't make a lick of sense in Red's mind. Purple was a great leader and was infinitely popular with the public so how could he be dangerous to the Irken people if all he did was make the Empire stronger? He went against all common sense that Red had ever known, and it gave him a headache. Irkens didn't go against logic. They just didn't. If he was claiming these feelings weren't a PAK malfunction, then that meant there were Irkens who were biologically created to be this way before they were fitted with their PAKs. Was the DNA used in the Smeeteries tainted? Or was it deeper than that? That would also mean the Control Brains had this all wrong. Red wasn't sure what to believe as he went around and around with himself in his mind, only muddying things further. He needed Purple to clarify what he was feeling, but he was afraid to ask.

"Pur, I don't think I unders-" he began slowly but was abruptly cut off.

"Don't call me that…You're making me feel worse…" Purple's voice cracked as the weight of the argument settled on his shoulders and his antagonism subsided to be replaced with heartbreak. He looked away and brought his hands together, wringing his fingers in an attempt to bite back the flood of tears that threatened to cascade down his face. He turned back and Red could feel his misery. "I know I'm bad for you. When we're together I ruin everything. I'm sorry. I-I'll leave you alone, if you want that, and we can rule separately. We don't even have to talk anymore if that makes you happy. A-All I want is for you to be happy! Just p-please don't make me face the Control Brains on Judgementia!" Purple clamped a hand over his mouth as he finally broke down, begging Red and hoping he got through to him. He couldn't say anything else and allowed himself to cry silently, sinking down to his knees in front of Red and digging his fingers into his face, the fear of losing everything he was consuming him. He finally worked up enough of a voice to squeak something out.

"It's not my fault! I-I want the Empire to remember who I was when I'm gone…I don't wanna be erased!"

The desperation in Purple's voice sickened Red and he felt his pulse pound rapidly through his body. All he could do was stare, slack-jawed and helpless. What was he supposed to do? He had no idea things were this bad for Purple, but he had no inkling as to what he could do to fix it and take the pain away. He listened as Purple's PAK tried to regulate his flood of emotions but sputtered and failed, giving up and allowing him to continue sobbing. Red narrowed his eyes in incomprehension at the noise, almost positive that something should have been done to fix this. He swallowed as an uncomfortable realization struck him; if Purple's PAK couldn't make sense of what was happening, then it really might not be a malfunction. He was diseased in the mind, something rooted deep within his biology and birth body. If that was the case, then there was the potential that the Control Brains were wrong about this being unnatural, and Red didn't like the sound of that. That would mean that they didn't know everything, and what would that mean for the rest of Irken law?

Purple choked and continued, releasing years of pent up thoughts and fears all at once and bombarding Red with whatever came to him. Hidden things flooded out in rapid succession as he began to hyperventilate. "I-I thought you were really cute when I met you a-and that's why my PAK shocked me that one time! I was scared to tell you so I l-lied but the dock team found out and threatened to tell you if I didn't do whatever they wanted!" He wiped his cheeks on the back of his sleeve, smearing dirt and dried blood over his face. "S-sometimes I would follow you on the Massive and try to talk to you, but I couldn't because I got too scared you'd think I was a freak! Y-You probably do now so it doesn't even matter anymore!"

Red blinked and shrunk back at the intensity of Purple's voice, wincing at how horrendously worked up his friend had become. "Purple, calm down."

"I-I feel so gross all the time! I know you can never give me what I want but I can't keep you out of my head and it makes me feel even worse!" He threw his hands back over his face and cried through his fingers. "I-I even tried dating a girl in the Academy before we met b-but I couldn't do anything with her, and she told everyone there was something wrong with me!"

"Dammit, Purple! Slow down, you're going to make yourself pass out!"

"I-I'm a failure to the Empire! The Control Brains would have never picked me if they knew I liked males! When I got picked, I thought it was a j-joke but I got excited when I found out I was going to rule with you! I-I thought maybe if we were together, you'd start to like me too!" He clawed at his cheeks. "I-I let myself think that for so long, but I know you're not like my kind!"

"Pur, stop!" Red yelled over his frantic breathing. He reached out with his good arm and grabbed Purple by the wrist, pulling his hand from his face so he could look at him. Purple turned away sharply, trying to hide his tear-streaked face as all of his sentences started running together.

"I hate it here! I-I'm cold and tired and hungry and I had to k-kill a woman with my hands and shoot someone in the shoulder and I feel really bad! I thought you were dead and dragged you for miles to get here! And I'm covered in blood and dirt and I p-probably smell nasty! A-And what's worse is that I'm supposed to be strong for the Empire! What if they find out how weak I am? What if they find out their Tallest is defective!?"

"I don't think you're defective!" Red snapped loudly, finally breaking through to Purple. His eyes snapped open, red from his efforts but laced with misunderstanding.

"W-What?"

Red wasn't even sure where the retort had come from. He blinked and thought a long moment, clutching tightly at Purple's wrist. Did he really think that? Maybe…maybe he did. It technically wasn't Purple's fault if he was born this way, and that made a little bit of sense. His PAK ID would have only enriched his existing personality but wasn't really coded for attraction if Red remembered. It could help regulate it to a manageable level, but that was something that ultimately came from an Irken's natural brain. Plus, Purple liking males hadn't gotten in the way of his ability to rule the Empire with an iron fist or provide for the Irken people. Red was still angry that Purple hadn't told him sooner and had used him for so long without his knowledge, but he was no longer sure that he was a coding mistake. Maybe Purple was just an individual. An odd one, but an individual none the less. Irken society was about fitting into rigid boxes and conforming to ideas that gave little room for expression. However, at their core, each Irken was different somehow and that made their society richer and stronger as a collective unit. If everyone was the same, there would be no room for growth. These new ideas creeping into Red's head were so wrong on so many levels and he knew they were immensely dangerous. Same-sex feelings were against the law and Red had been the poster boy for the Control Brains for cycles now. His obedience and inflexibility were portrayed as ideal in propaganda around Irk, but Purple had always balanced him out with his naive impulsiveness and brilliant democratic creativity. Red admired that and couldn't imagine his life without Purple by his side; he would be utterly lost. Or dead. They were two halves of the same broken, toxic whole. So, why was the Purple in front of him now any different from the Purple he knew then? He was different because he loved Red, or at least admitted to it…and that confused him.

"W-Wait, say it again." Purple broke the silence and tugged away from Red's grip, leaning forward to chase the little bit of validation he could get like it was a high. "Please?"

Red couldn't believe he was saying something so dangerous, but it made sense according to science and he couldn't deny it. Irk, what was he doing? There was no going back from questioning the law. "I…I don't know. I just don't see any evidence that you're defective." He was careful with his wording, and the truth felt unholy in his mouth.

Purple could barely breathe. "Y-You're not going to turn me in?" His voice cracked and came out hoarse. "You believe me?"

Red took a deep breath and squeezed his eyes shut. He would ask that, wouldn't he? Red still wasn't sure what he thought about the whole thing. He wanted Purple around but couldn't give him the physical or emotional intimacy he wanted…probably? Agh! _No_! Gross! Of course he couldn't; they were closer than smeets hatched in the same manufacturing sequence. But, he and Purple were always together anyway. They shared an odd companionship that drew them together for their jobs. Red swallowed thickly, perplexed by the weird point that his mind was trying to make. They already shared everything; ate each other's food, shared sleeping quarters, and had stupid little pet names for one another. They tried to make each other laugh and knew intimate details about each other that no one else in the Empire knew. They cried in front of each other, dressed in front of each other and shared every opinion, even if they fought a bit about them. There was a warmth between him and Purple that was unlike any friendship or relationship Red had in the past. It was deeper than that and infinitely more special that the superficial feelings Red had for others. For some reason, he couldn't bring himself to feel that way about Purple. He was just different. Were they already..._life partners_? No. That couldn't be it. Life partners required kissing and holding and sleeping together, amongst other forms of fulfillment that Red couldn't give. Plus, Red liked women. He couldn't count the times he'd seen a beautiful, tall, elite soldier in a tight uniform and fawned over her from afar like sugar. There was just something about females that was undeniably inviting and pleasing to the senses. They oozed femininity but were still strong enough to rise through the ranks and hold high positions of power. He could vaguely remember having a childhood crush on Tallest Miyuki. Everyone did. She was tall, graceful, powerful, and yet still soft and refined. Red's blood curdled as the beginning of a dreadful thought crept into his mind. His skin prickled as his own temperature rose and a sweltering fear was caught in his throat. He glanced back up and really took a long, detailed look at Purple for the first time. He knew what his co-Tallest looked like, obviously, but at the thought of Miyuki he was able to see Purple from a bit of a different perspective. A perspective that made Red feel abnormal and perturbed on the deepest of levels. Like Miyuki, Purple was tall…very tall. They were only a few millimeters away from being the exact same height. Red furrowed his brow when Purple said something, but ignored him, caught up in his own disastrous science experiment. Purple wasn't graceful on his feet, but he could be with his tongue. Red had watched him silence whole crowds in the past with a single word and it was awe-inspiring and equally frightening, a display that gave Red goosebumps to think about. He was powerful and domineering when the time called for it, unafraid to expend resources to protect his planet and his people or to ruthlessly expand their ever-growing Empire. But, also like Miyuki, Red came to an unnerving conclusion that made him feel unclean…Purple gave off the same air of soft femininity. Not to say that he wasn't masculine, but he was a constant mixture of both with a foot in either world. Red had never really thought of it before but as he ran through memories of the two of them together, it became evident that Purple was practically a male copy of Miyuki…kind of. They both shared the same interests in science and technology, public relations, and social aid and the both of them were soft to look at and generally easy on the eyes. Purple had a nice smile that warmed Red when he flashed it and they shared the same great taste in food. Purple was ditzy, less organized, and generally annoying to be around for long periods of time, but he was also amazingly innovative, hilarious, and great with beings where Red was not. Red also thought he had…pretty eyes. At one point, Red had made fun of Purple for his eye color, putting him down and claiming it was a creation defect. But now, in the moment, he became aware of how bottomless and charming the color actually was. He really was like Miyuki…Purple just came with a few extra things that Miyuki didn't have, both emotionally and physically. Red shrunk back further where he sat at the sudden thought, nearly choking on his tongue in humiliation. Oh hell! _No_! Did he actually just think that? That was his own independent thought? What was happening to him? Was Purple rubbing off on him or doing something to his head? Or, was he merely noticing things he didn't think were important before? Red was so confused, feeling himself lock up and begin to internalize everything in an attempt to dissociate from his distracting, and horrifying, observations. This was his best friend he was thinking about! His _male_ best friend and co-leader of the Irken Empire! There were too many questions all at once and too little answers.

Purple said something again, reaching out this time and lightly tapping Red on the forearm. "Red? Are you ok? You don't look right."

"Ah! No!" Red blurted out awkwardly and pulled away from the touch a little too hastily, not sure what he was disagreeing with.

"No?" Purple's voice still wavered a bit from his emotional outburst. "No, you don't think I'm defective, or no you do think I'm defective?"

Red hadn't been this humiliated in a long time. Even if Purple couldn't read his mind, he hoped, he was terrified to say the wrong thing. He tried to think but there were too many ideas bouncing around in his mind to draw clearly on any of them. "I…I'm not going to turn you in." He decided on. "I don't really know what to do, but we can figure this out together."

It was as if a massive weight was lifted off of Purple's shoulders. All at once, he sighed in much needed release and fell backwards from where he sat on his knees, letting the hard ground catch him in a solid embrace. There was a sense of liberation as the mood shifted and turned to a warm, but still bitter, reprieve and Purple let himself breath at regular intervals again. An odd smile formed on his face and Red wasn't sure if it was one of contentment or just adrenaline-fueled relief that he wasn't going to die.

He smoothed his hands over his eyes and wiped away the remaining salty tears he found there, sniffing once more before throwing his arms wide to the side and staring up at the bottom of the craggily overhang. After what felt like minutes, Purple pushed himself up and moved to where Red sat, slumping down in a heap next to him. He gave a small, tentative laugh and shook his head.

"I'm not going to die." Notes of disbelief overtook his voice. "You're not going to kill me."

Red swallowed thickly. "You make me sound like a monster. But…no. I'm not." He was only half-joking.

Purple's smile faded and he recollected himself, a numbness creeping back in and pushing a wedge back in between the two. "Red?"

"What?"

"I know how weird it must feel…for me to be in love with you. But I can't help it. I've tried."

Red stared out at the forest. Irk's suns were blinding, glinting off the pearly Meekrob ship zipping around in the distance. This was the first time since they were in the compound that Purple had actually said he loved him. "Yeah…It's pretty weird." Red hesitated, but he had to know. "What exactly are we? I can't just forget that all this happened. Things will be different now and I want to hear from your mouth what you want from me."

Purple didn't look up, nervous and unable to find an answer.

"I can't give you what you want." Red prompted, just as uncomfortable.

"I know."

"What then? Are we friends? Just co-leaders?"

"I-I want to be both."

There was another lingering silence as they both tried to find acceptable reactions to one another and neither knew where to go from here. Red flinched when he felt his PAK start in on his arm, the bone shifting slightly to allow for proper mending. He gave Purple a fleeting sideways glance, but it didn't last long. He still didn't know what they were now, and it was bothering him more than it should. He wasn't sure he wanted to know.

"I won't bring it up again." Purple muttered, despondency and sadness haunting him. "I know you're not like my kind and it's unfair to keep going after you when I know you're not into me. I want you in my life so I'm fine with being friends."

Red still couldn't wrap his mind around what either of them was feeling. Everything was happening so fast. Without thinking, he asked a question that caught Purple completely off guard. "What's it like to be your kind?"

Purple's shoulders tensed and he crossed his legs, twiddling his thumbs in his lap. He thought about the question seriously but didn't seem to grasp the point of it. "What do you mean?"

Red's mouth was dry, and he licked his lips. It didn't help. "W-What does it feel like? I've never felt anything like that so I'm just…curious."

_Curious_. The word rang in Red's head like an alarm bell. What was he doing? It was almost like he didn't have control of his voice and he hated it. This conversation had yo-yoed in between two extremes and it was making him dizzy, and now he had the nerve to ask a question like that?

"Oh…" Purple rubbed the back of his neck and tightened his jaw, obviously just as perturbed by the question as Red was. "It's…um…well it's…hmm." He couldn't quiet come up with a way to explain what he felt. "I guess it's the same way you would feel about a female just…not a female. I just see males…sometimes…and think they're attractive." His words were tactless and clumsy.

Red noticed Purple's face flush and felt his own do the same. That meant Purple thought _he_ was attractive. "Mm. Cool."

Purple clicked his tongue and gave a slow nod. "Yeah."

Their talk had reached a terrible stagnation. It was times like these that made Red want to get high again, to drown out the gut-wrenching feelings he couldn't push away. He tried to think of something, _anything_ to break the deafening roar of problematic body language between them.

"A-At least you have good taste." He stuttered with a fake smile, immediately regretting the comment. "You know? With…eh…me?"

Purple flashed him a pained false smile in return. "T-Thank you." As soon as he turned, his smile faded back to a look of traumatized degradation.

Oh, Irk, Red wanted to disappear. He wanted to excuse himself and get up, but there was no place to go out here. They were stuck with each other and it was terrifying. Red could practically sense the discomfort radiating from Purple and drew his antennae back, trying to get away from it.

"So," Purple began slowly. "As soon as you're done healing, we need to go."

Thank the universe; a conversation shift. Red exhaled and nodded. "The crash site is too close to our flagship. We'll get caught if we try to reach it." He thought a moment and remembered something he'd previously overlooked. "If it's still there, I remember a village called Naphrus 8 somewhere past the forest ridge." He pointed to the distance and Purple squinted. "We used to go there from the airbase to eat. If we can reach it, we can contact the Armada."

"Are you sure? That's pretty far." Purple sounded skeptical. "And that was a long time ago. Is it still there?"

"Trust me. It's our best bet anyway."

There was a loud mechanical screech and the two jumped in unison, leaning forward together to survey the sky from underneath the overhang. A formation of five blue triangular ships shot high above them in the atmosphere. They were traveling at unimaginable speeds, presumably a survey fleet, and were only visible for a few quick seconds before dipping behind the horizon. That couldn't be good. The two exchanged a nervous glance when they recognized the distinctive contrails left behind in the magenta sky. It was an Inquisitorian patrol. There hadn't been an Inquisitorian fly-over above Irk for hundreds of cycles; patrols over the two planets by each of their ships was prohibited in the Irken-Inquisitorian Treaty. Somehow, that trust had been destroyed.

"Do you think the New Resisty messed with the treaty disguised as us?" Purple breathed, already knowing the answer.

Red nodded gravely, wishing it wasn't true but knowing there was no other explanation. "Yes." If they were already running surveys here, there was no telling what was happing on Vort, lightyears away. "We need to leave as soon as we can and re-establish contact with the Armada before this escalates."

Purple scooped up Urb Yen's pistol and pushed off of the ground. "Hurry up and get better, then. I'll keep watch." As soon as he was on his feet, he became lightheaded with hunger and fatigue, stumbling.

"Woah, Pur. Give me the gun. You need to sleep." Red wasn't asking him. He was telling him. He reached up and motioned Purple to give him the pistol. "I'll keep watch for a while."

Purple tried to blink the sleep away from his vision. "You? How can you protect us when you're like this?"

Red was almost insulted by the comment, but after everything they had been through in the past several hours, it simply rolled off. He gave Purple a look of near irritation and he didn't argue, passing the pistol down and resettling next to Red. He scooted over a few feet, putting some distance in between them. Red noticed he was still freezing, drawing in his knees into his chest and attempting to find warmth.

"Do you want my jacket?" Red asked tentatively, afraid the offer would come off wrong.

Purple thought a moment then wearily shook his head. "I'm fine." He lied.

"No you're not." Red rolled his eyes and tried to shuck his jacket, gritting his teeth when he jostled his arm. Finally, with great effort, he was able to tug it off, leaving him in only his thermal undershirt. Damn, it really was cold.

"Red, I told you I'm fine."

"Stop complaining. I didn't take it off for nothing. Take it and get some sleep."

Purple hesitated but was too exhausted to argue anymore. His mind felt fractured. He reached out and took Red's jacket, pulling it on over his and zipping it up the front with a fat yawn. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back, absorbing the last traces of Red's body heat from the warm fabric. It felt nice.

Red watched him closely. He didn't say anything else and simply went to sleep, giving Red a much-needed break to think on his own. He toyed with the pistol and fought his own exhaustion, watching the steady rise and fall of Purple's chest as he drifted off completely, growing uncomfortable in his presence once more. That was quick. He must have been so depleted. Red blinked apprehensively at the sight of his co-Tallest in his jacket. Purple had worn his clothing before, and they had often shared nightclothes without an issue. But it felt different in light of the things he had learned. It didn't feel all that disgusting now like he thought it would. It just felt…strange. Still wrong, but more odd than anything. Red didn't like it. It was like he was claiming some kind of superficial ownership over Purple that didn't exist but still crept into his peripheries. He huffed in frustration and looked back to the forest. A few tiny creatures scurried out of the brush then darted back in, kicking up little clouds of dust. There were so many questions running through his mind still;

_What was happening on Vort?_

_Why was there an Inquisitorian patrol flying illegally in Irken airspace?_

_Would the New Resisty find them?_

_What if Naphrus 8 didn't exist anymore?_

_What did it feel like to be one of Purple's kind?_

_Were he and Purple friends or...or something else?_

Red groaned and rested his forehead in his good hand. This was too much for even him to handle. Why did Purple have to be this way and why did he have to be so confused…and curious? Ugh. He was beginning to despise that word. For now he needed to focus on keeping them safe and getting them to Naphrus 8. He had a feeling that a war was getting ready to break out and he was going to make sure they were ready.

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I listen to very happy music while writing this. Dunno why. Please leave a review. Peace out homedogs, love you!


	8. Both

Oh my goodness we hit 43 reviews! You all are amazing and wonderful human beings! I never expected this to go that far, he, he. Someone wrote "this fic is the whole unsweetened tea and girl you better believe I be sipping," in the reviews and it made me laugh for some reason. Thank you for a chuckle random guest.

Welcome **cdayork**, **tundervolt, **and** fluffboi **to the follow family! You rock and I love you! Also, thank you **tundervolt** for favoriting! You guys really have no idea how much that means to me.

Also; this chapter will be long. It's a combination of two because they flow better together rather than separately. That's why this took so long to write. Thanks babies!

**Chapter rated M for mentions of drinking, light drug use, and general adult themes. Don't do drugs kids. I mean it.**

* * *

_**An undefinable amount of time in the (much happier) past;**_

Red trudged heavily down the long corridor of the Massive, practically dragging himself along. The nightly recharge sequence had already begun and the lights were dim, allowing just enough visibility for him to find his way back to his quarters. A few night navigators passed him in the dark on the way to their shift change, saluting respectfully when he passed. Red nodded them on, hoping they couldn't see how utterly exhausted he was. It was budget day for the Massive and Red was in charge of reviewing thousands of lines of calculations before they could be approved. Purple wasn't any help, and had left the bridge early, claiming that he had important business to attend to back in their room. Whatever. Red was almost sure he just wanted to skip work and was still angry about the pile of dockets that he had left behind. What could be more important than budget day? Did he want to run out of snack money? Red tried not to think too hard about it. He was used to Purple and his weird issues by now.

When he reached the panel to their room, Red practically fell through it, wanting to collapse to the floor and sleep in the doorway. Knowing his luck, one of the new guards on night watch would come by and think he was dead. The room was pitch black and completely silent besides the usual creaks and groans of the ship. A weird but familiar smell hung in the air and Red couldn't quite put his finger on what it was. Purple must have gone to sleep. He knew it. Maybe he would click the lights on just to blind him out of spite.

"Computer-" Red jumped when another voice finished his sentence from deep within the darkness.

"-turn on the lights!"

"Yes, my Tallest."

The lights flickered on and Red blinked, stopping in the doorway and nearly dropping his reader at the sight. What _happened_ in here? Purple stood in his black undershirt in the middle of the room, a stupid grin on his face. He threw his arms out wide, clearly proud of what he had done. The smell Red had noticed was paint and Purple was covered in it, bright splashes dotting his face and hands. A protective plastic sheeting coated the floor and furniture, and a single stepstool sat in the corner. Open cans of metal adhesive were littered everywhere, putting off thick fumes. Their once bleak and uninteresting room had changed to a brilliant display of crimson and violet, dividing the room completely in half in a show of respect for their distinct personalities.

"Do you like it?" Purple asked expectantly, wiping his hands on the front of his shirt, attempting to clean his fingers of the gummy paint. "I had the janitorial staff help me."

So that's why the trash wasn't taken to the chute. Red didn't move, glued firmly in place as the chemical smell overtook him. "Where's the rest of our stuff?" Besides the furniture, everything was missing.

"I moved everything." Purple wiped the sweat from his brow. "It's all in a supply closet a few floors down."

Red nodded deliberately, taking a step forward and curling his lip at the sound of plastic underneath his heels. "You didn't tell me about any of this."

Purple cocked his head and thought hard, scrunching up his face. "Huh. I thought I did." His grin returned and he skipped forward, grabbing the reader from Red's hands and, much to his displeasure, tossing it over to his plastic wrapped futon. "It was super boring in here and we've been living here for a few cycles now, so I wanted to officially make it ours. Surprise, I guess!"

Red followed the crisp seam of color from the floor up to the ceiling. He frowned. "Wait, so my side is purple and yours is red? And where did you get the paint?"

Purple ushered him further into the room and threw his hands on his hips with a chuckle. "I got the paint the last time we docked at Devastis. And yes, my side is red and yours is purple."

Devastis? But they hadn't been there in so long. Purple must have been planning this for ages. Red was honestly speechless. "Why not the other way around?"

"I dunno. It was like this checkerboard thing I had in my head. I wanted it to feel balanced." Purple tried to explain his reasoning, but he didn't make any sense. "And, red is my favorite color." He added.

Red felt his surprise fade. He took a few more steps and admired Purple's handiwork, impressed that he was able to cover such a large area in only a few hours. Leave it to him to achieve the impossible. "I thought your favorite color was purple."

Purple rolled his eyes playfully. "No. You only _think_ that."

Red couldn't help but laugh a little. "It's nice but you should have painted the whole room red. It would have looked way better."

"And give you the satisfaction?" Purple shoved him lightly, forgetting about the wet paint on his fingers, smearing it over Red's shoulder panel. "I'd rather die."

"Dammit, Pur! Don't touch anything!" Red huffed and batted him away, irritated by his carelessness. "This stuff doesn't come out!" He shucked his breastplate and felt the weight of the Empire literally lift from his shoulders. "You're gross. Go wash your hands."

Purple didn't listen. Instead, he leaned down and completely immersed his hands in an open can of bright red paint. He flew back up and thrust his arms out tauntingly, paint dripping and splattering in thick trails to the plastic covered floor. "You mean these?" He tried not to burst out in laughter when Red backed away in revulsion.

"Stop it! You're making a mess!" Red warned, careful to watch Purple's every move. He was exhausted and not in the mood for stupid games.

Purple followed him, arms still outstretched impishly. "What's wrong, Red? You don't like me anymore?" He giggled, making a few grabbing motions with his gooey fingers. "I thought you loved this color."

"Get away from me!" Red cautioned heatedly. Purple was such a smeet sometimes! The Empire was lucky it wasn't just him ruling by himself. They'd all either be cruelly shot into the vacuum of space or be constantly covered in something wet and disgusting. Red sighed in disappointment, turning his back to Purple and undoing the clasps of his robes, letting them fall to the floor and leaving him in only his thermals. "Why is it that every time I leave you alone, I come back to you being sticky? You're _always_ sticky. Do I need to hold your hand for the rest of your life?"

"Oh? You want to hold my hand?" Purple joked, reaching forward to try and take Red's hand, a trail of crimson paint flying forward at his sudden jerk and spraying over Red's boots.

Red held back a shriek and jumped back defensively. Purple knew he didn't like the feeling of foreign things on his skin. "Stop it, Purple! I mean it!"

"You're no fun, Red." Purple teased, rolling his eyes again. "I know you're tired, but you should…" He lunged forward and raked his wet hands down the front of Red's undershirt, drawing out the touch as much as he could for optimum torment. "…lighten up!"

Red gasped at the cold feeling oozing through the fabric to his skin. It was invasive and appalling; all he could do was solidify into a mess of displeasure and yell, not caring if anyone heard him outside the door. Purple flew into a fit of tear-jerking giggles, doubling over at the pained horror on Red's face.

"D-Did you just…"

"Mmhm! Whatcha you gonna do about it?"

Suddenly, a spark of something light and vibrant flooded over Red and he narrowed his eyes at the challenge. Really now? Purple was going to challenge him? If there was one thing Purple was good at, it was tugging Red over the edge and dissolving the usually well collected impression he projected to others. He could never deny a dare and Purple knew that, poking and prodding him until he caved in and succumbed to what little irrationality he kept hidden away inside himself. Red pushed his exhaustion to the side and watched his co-Tallest in newfound amusement, itching to give him a taste of his own medicine. Purple wanted to play? Fine. Red would play too. He glanced down at one of the tin cans by his feet and snatched a fat paintbrush from the top of the lid. Without thinking and while Purple was distracted by his own noisy enjoyment, Red smacked him in the face with the soft bristles, dragging a thick, soppy line of violet paint right over his mouth. That ought to shut him up. Purple's eyes flew wide and he immediately clamped his mouth shut, every muscle in his body tensing at the unexpected, disgusting feeling. He flew up and frantically wiped at his face, spitting to the side and sticking his tongue out at the terrible taste of caustic paint in his mouth.

"You asshole! That's not fair! You got it in my mouth!" He cried, only half serious. Paint dripped from his chin and he smirked deviously in Red's direction, the energy between them going electric as Red returned his challenge. Purple loved it when Red fought back.

Red pointed and tried to contain his laughter, breaking down the last of his inhibitions at the sorry sight. "Oh, man! You should see your fa-" He was cut off as Purple's body collided with his, forcing his arms around Red's waist as he began to struggle.

Purple refused to let up his relentless attack as Red fought, heaving him a few inches from the ground. He chuckled and spun him around, practically throwing him down on the futon behind them. Red yelped at the feeling of the plastic crunching under him but continued to laugh regardless, overtaken by the innocent ridiculousness of their paint splattering contest. He sprung up as Purple tried to pounce on top of him, satisfied when he stumbled and tripped over his own feet. Red could always count on Purple to be clumsy. But Purple was becoming more agile with age and reached out, grabbing Red by the arm and dragging him down with him to the floor. Red gasped and flailed, trying to catch himself to no avail, toppling and landing gracelessly on his side next to Purple. There was a momentary silence as their ferocity settled and they locked eyes before simultaneously sharing in joyful laughter once more. Red could barely breathe and snorted at the sight of Purple disheveled and coated in vibrant color, covering his mouth to keep himself from making the childish noise again.

Purple reached up and wiped away his happy tears, careful not to get paint in his eyes and trying to will his breathing back down to a manageable level. "Wait! Wait!" He sputtered in between chuckles, waving his hands around flippantly, unable to get out whatever he was wanting to say.

"What?" Red giggled softly, propping himself up on his elbow only to be knocked back down as Purple pushed up and rolled over him, playfully pinning him down.

Red yelped when Purple sat on his chest, immobilizing him and dipping a finger in a nearby can. "Revenge for making me spill my smoothie the other day!" He managed to squeak out between snickers.

He held Red as still as he could and began to scrawl something messily across his forehead, moving down to his cheeks when he ran out of room. It tickled and Red snorted again, his own enjoyment weakening him to the onslaught on his skin as he let Purple dominate him just this once. He made a fake attempt at shoving him off to keep up the appearance that he could still take control should he want to, tugging humorously at Purple's sleeves. Purple narrowed his eyes teasingly and waved away his prisoner's hands, continuing his messy work as Red flinched under the feeling of cool paint being spread over his skin. Red wasn't sure what had gotten into them both, but he secretly loved it when things like this happened. It was almost like an instinct drove them together when they needed each other most, grounding them in the here and now and melting away the stress of the outside world. Purple made him feel so young and alive. Red hadn't laughed this hard in a while and had forgotten how much he could enjoy it, evaporating into the dynamic air of fun that was bouncing between the two. Besides, there was no one else here and he was allowed to loosen up sometimes. He was Tallest, he could do whatever he wanted, even if it was dumb. Finally, Purple leaned back and admired his masterpiece with a grin, peeling himself from Red's chest and standing. He extended a hand down and pulled Red up, who immediately crossed to the mirror on the wall, curious as to what immature message Purple had soiled him with.

His reflection glared back at him and Red shook his head, feeling a tiny smile peak over his face at the stupid, infantile writing. _Red Sucks_, was painted poorly over his smooth features, tainting him with the maddening words of his companion. What a dork. Why was he not surprised? Normally, Red would be upset but, and maybe it was the fumes getting to him, he couldn't push off the giddy feeling fluttering gently in his chest. Purple had won this time, but he would never admit it, and he would most definitely find a way to get him back in the future.

"You know," Purple appeared behind him in the mirror, placing his hands over Red's shoulders and gripping him lightly, "I think you should rock that look more often. You could start a new fashion statement." He snickered when Red rolled his eyes. "We would be rich if I put that on a t-shirt."

Red closed his eyes and practically purred as Purple began to massage little circles into his shoulder blades. He loved it when Purple worked him over like this but Red was far too hardhearted to actually admit it. Too bad Purple was usually too stubborn to comply when Red asked him to do things like this. "You think so?" He mumbled, leaning back into his friend's skilled touch. "You'd make a fool out of me for money?"

"Duh. You're already a fool so I might as well put you to good use." Purple eased back and patted him lightly on the arm, signaling to him to follow and lay down.

Red knew the drill. They moved in harmony to his lumpy futon where he sighed and flopped down on his stomach, resting his head in the crook of his arm as Purple sat on the edge of the cushion next to him. Purple had rare spikes of compassion where he would pamper Red like this, but they never lasted long. They were only ever on his terms, and moments like this usually came after Purple won some kind of trivial argument or spat, a silent and subtle gesture to let Red know that he still viewed him as equal. Red didn't care what the reason was; he would take what he could get and enjoy it while he could. Plus, Purple owed him for the work he'd forced him to do.

He felt Purple replace his hands on his back, lower this time, digging his knuckles into the seam where Red's PAK and body joined. He followed it down at his leisure, feeling for knots along the way.

"You're not as bad as I thought you'd be, but you're still pretty tense." Purple observed with a soft chuckle, running both his hands firmly down the length of Red's spine to his lower back before working back up again.

"I wouldn't be tense if you didn't leave all that paperwork behind for me to finish." Red tried not to drool at the relaxing sensation, fighting to sound agitated so Purple wouldn't notice. "But the room looks nice. You did a good job." He felt one of his vertebrae pop back into place and sighed at the release.

"I'm glad you like it."

There was silence between them as Purple focused his attention on Red's neck and upper back once more, applying pressure in all the places he knew would make Red melt. Red felt himself nodding off, catching himself when Purple would move again, dancing his fingers over all the places he loved. Purple had always been good with his hands and knew what Red liked. It must have been all of the precise, delicate work he performed on battleships all those cycles ago and Red was glad he still put those skills to good use.

"Mm…'s nice." Red mumbled. He winced when Purple bore down on the muscle just beneath his right shoulder blade, awakening a reoccurring pain and drawing it to the surface. "Ow! Ok, that's _not_ so nice."

Purple didn't ease up, holding firm and leaning his weight into Red's back. "Sorry, but it's really tight again and I need to work it out before it gets worse. Was it bad today?"

He was talking about an old wound Red had sustained long ago from an enemy gunshot. His PAK had healed him, but the shot had gone too deep and he'd sustained permanent damage to his muscle tissue. Phantom pains still crept in every once in a while, and somehow Purple would always know when Red felt them flare back up.

"Kind of." Red clenched his jaw and released when Purple slowly eased up, the feeling of warm blood rushing to the site made him groan. Irk, Purple was so good at this.

"How about now?"

"Better."

"Good, because my hands are starting to hurt."

Red didn't move when he felt Purple's hands pull away. He was far too comfortable now to do anything productive and resigned to the fact that he was going to sleep here tonight, paint and all. He felt the weight of the cushions shift as Purple leaned back, followed by the feeling of his boots being lazily tugged off.

"You couldn't even take off your shoes? Idiot." Purple muttered a warmhearted scoff and Red heard his boots hit the floor. He felt Purple's hands drift over his back again, barely a ghost of a touch. "You would die without me, Red."

* * *

_**The cold, hungry, confusing present:**_

Red felt his pulse quicken as the memory faded in his vision, Purple's soft words echoing in his head.

_You would die without me, Red._

Purple didn't know it then, but he was right; Red would have died long ago without him.

Red had healed enough for them to leave the safety of the overhang and they'd been walking in the dark for hours, glancing up at the sky through the canopy every so often to ensure they weren't being followed on their way to the end of the ridge. Red led the way, driven on by instinct and familiar landmarks from his time running the Naphrus hills. He'd been sifting through old memories of him and Purple since they had left, unease digging at him and chipping away at everything he thought was true. Looking back at the past, it was now painfully obvious that Purple was deeply enamored by him and each memory Red pulled up only left him more unsure of himself. Purple was in almost every happy memory he had after becoming Tallest and was there for him every night without fail. It seemed that there had always been an odd tension between them that Red had never noticed before, bordering somewhere between an intense friendship and the beginning of something more perplexing. It made Red dizzy to think about. The feelings Purple gave him were rooted so deep in him they had become part of his very identity, changing his life and personality for the better, but he wasn't quite sure what those feelings were anymore. He couldn't find the correct label for them and tried hard to find a word in any language that was suitable enough to describe the dynamic he and Purple shared. Red could feel himself gradually falling into his obsession with trying to figure everything out, itching to reach a conclusion but feeling it hover just out of his grasp. He had become utterly stuck on the topic, as he usually did with things he couldn't rationalize, and ran through every logical answer he could find as to why Purple was born the way he was. Faulty DNA? No. The strands used in the hatcheries were rigorously quality checked. Faulty PAK? No. He had already determined that this wasn't a feeling that could be rooted in the mechanical coldness of Irken technology. Damage to his natural brain? Not that Red knew of. Purple was careful with his body and played things safe, so it was unlikely he had engaged in anything strenuous enough to cause him that much harm. If he'd had these thoughts for hundreds of cycles, there was no telling where or when they had originated. Red wasn't even sure Purple knew.

Red laboriously heaved himself up a steep, leafy embankment and waited at the top for Purple, catching his breath. He wanted to forget that all of this had ever happened and go back to the way things were before. Before his mind was cluttered with nonsense he couldn't seem to delete. The worst and most pressing question on his mind was…_why?_ Why couldn't he just let it go? Purple had already agreed to never bring up his affections again, so why was Red hanging on to his confession like a backwards lifeline? He knew the answer but was afraid to admit it to himself, ashamed of his inability to process the feelings aching deep within him. Red was a control-freak. He had an intense, compulsive need to regulate everyone and everything around him and only felt comfortable when things ran as smoothly as he deemed appropriate. One little change or ripple in his routine threw him completely out of balance. Purple's confession had disrupted that flow and knocked Red's entire world askew, unsettling him to his core and forcing his brain and PAK to fight between emotion and logic. Red knew he wouldn't be able to move on and forget until he fully understood why all of this was happening between them. But this was something that was without any sense of logic or rationality and that deeply, _deeply_ bothered him, holding him fast in the purgatory between healing and shorting out.

Purple groaned and struggled to climb the steep hillside, nearly collapsing when he reached the top. They were both dehydrated and starving, sharp pangs of hunger digging at them and begging them both to stop and give up. Red felt woozy and unbalanced, his blood sugar dipping to dangerously low levels as Purple finally trudged to his side. Still, they had to keep going. He blinked in the dark and fought to stay upright, the cold biting at his antennae. If only the Armada knew where they were.

"Red…I see something." Purple whispered through the night. His voice sounded ill and he hadn't spoken in hours, the sound already becoming foreign to Red.

Red squinted down the hillside to where Purple pointed a shaky finger. Almost immediately, he felt his hopelessness lift, a smile peaking on his face and his strength returning just enough for him to appreciate the weary feeling of finally reaching their destination. A cluster of tiny buildings sat perched at the bottom of the hill, barely illuminated by a few lone streetlights and the cabin lights of a ship or two taking off from a small, worn airstrip. If it wasn't for Purple's sharp eyes, they may have walked right past it. It was Naphrus 8. Red couldn't contain his exhilaration. He spun around and grabbed Purple, pulling him into a desperate, warm embrace and scrambling to dig his claws into his back. Purple didn't return it, going stiff as a board at Red's unexpected touch, still unsure of what was acceptable between the two and Red didn't care. He held him for a few long seconds before releasing him and pulling back, latching on to his hand and dragging him along down the hill. He could practically taste the liberation waiting for them and feel the soft mattress of his bed on the Massive welcoming him back. They were going to be ok, and for the first time in two days, Red finally believed that. They were going to beat this together.

"It's Naphrus 8, Pur!" He bit his tongue to keep from yelling, laughing through the cold out of sheer relief that this nightmare was almost at its end. "I can't believe it's still here! We'll be able to contact the Armada!" Red gave another hoot of excited anticipation, forcing Purple along.

Purple blinked and stumbled behind his friend, grinning slowly in reply at Red's unanticipated display of delight. He didn't say anything but shared in Red's lightheaded laughter, entwining their fingers together and running after him, their boots crunching against the frosted ground. It didn't take long to reach the bottom of the hill but Red couldn't stop there. They had to find someone who had a working transmitter with a strong enough signal to contact the Armada. They had to get out of this hellhole of a vacation. Together, they rushed hand in hand to the first graffiti covered building they could find. It was loud and obnoxious, filthy music flooded from a cracked windowpane and drunken laughter erupted in waves from within the warm glow of the lucid light.

"I remember this place." Red breathed, looking up at the building and tightening his grip on Purple's hand, strangely comforted by the familiar feeling of their palms pressed together. "The Elite got free drinks here whenever we wanted."

They moved forward, glancing apprehensively through the window to make sure everything was safe. For such a small village, the bar was packed to the brim with tipsy Irkens collectively pounding back grueling amounts of some unknown green liquid. Several couples kissed and fondled each other openly at the bar while others bounced and thrashed to the high energy sound booming through the gloom. The air was heavy and rank with the smell of fermented sugars and exotic spices from far off planets, followed by a chorus of bottles smashing on the hard ground. There were a few feisty, slurred shouts accompanied by an immediate uproar of high-spirited laughter. Punches were thrown and tables were flipped, but the brawl was quickly ended by a thick, stocky bouncer with one antenna.

The two watched, dumfounded as the whole crowd erupted into song, swaying together to the beat of the live band playing vivaciously in the corner. This was the side of Irk no one saw in the media; the filthy, grotesque, untamed piece of the public the Empire tried to stamp out and force back into regulation. These were the Irkens that refused to comply with the norm, causing problems for the Tallest any chance they got and cursing their name. And they had to go in and ask for a transmitter. Yikes.

"This is…different than I remember." Red mumbled slowly, unable to peel his gaze from the grimy scene unfolding in the bar and the disgusting lyrics assaulting his antennae. He felt his free hand clutch at Urb Yen's pistol in his waistband, apprehensive to waltz into the bar and ask for help.

"Please tell me you weren't this wild when you were younger." Purple asked, afraid of the answer and flinching when a bottle collided with the wall to the side of the window, shattering into hundreds of pieces.

"Eh…I wasn't _that_ bad." Red began, trying to tiptoe around the question as vague memories of bar fights came back to him in pieces. "I partied when I was on leave but this," he nodded to the feral crowd, "this needs to be destroyed."

"Hey!" A forceful, bossy chide ripped through the air behind them, making the two shoot up in alarm. "No loitering! Either go in or get out! And you'd better not be causing trouble with that plasma pistol or I'll have to beat your ass!"

Red let go of Purple's hand and straightened up. He was tired, hungry, and ready to rip someone apart. How dare a lowly non-conformist speak to him, the Tallest, in such a tone? He spun around and puffed out his chest, trying to appear as tall and intimidating as he could, even in the sorry state he was in.

"You'll do kindly to address your Tallest with respect! I could easily arrest you and your patrons for breaking Empire safety regulations and shut you down for good."

"M-My Tallest?! Forgive me! We weren't expecting…wait…_Red_?"

Red blinked when he locked eyes with a familiar face. A wiry Irken of decent height stood a few feet away, clutching two huge containers of nacho chips under each arm. She was several feet shorter than Red but still towered over her customers, dressed in pink civilian clothing but giving off the air that she was more than that. She scrunched up her face and looked Red over, grinning and revealing a perfect set of well-manicured teeth, her curled antennae shooting straight up in elation.

"Holy shit! It _is_ you! It's so weird seeing you here in person and not on a stage or blowing up planets!" She exclaimed, dropping the containers to the ground and taking a few enthusiastic steps forward. "How have you been? I haven't seen you since you left the base!"

Red blinked in surprise, his air of haughty authority quickly dissipating with a fat grin, his missing canine becoming very obvious. "Teem? What are you doing here? I almost didn't recognize you!"

Teem pulled her old friend in for a tight hug and he didn't fight her, accepting it graciously when she squeezed the air from him. "I retired from the fleet almost five cycles ago." She pulled back and locked eyes with Red, two bright pink orbs glistening cheerfully in the faint light. "I bought this place with my pension!"

"You mean you own the bar now?"

"Sure do! Remember Sloo, the guy who used to kick us out after midnight for starting fights? My mate and I took over from him after he was deactivated. I just couldn't handle seeing this place go under. We named it The Smash."

"Sounds appropriate. So, you actually found a life partner?"

"Yeah! Crazy I settled down right? They're inside if you want to meet them. I could introduce you two!"

"Are they as bad as you used to be? I don't remember you ever being the romantic type."

"Like you would know, Mr. Stoic! Damn, I just can't get over how tall you are now." She punched him lightly in the shoulder. "Hey, what's up with your clothes? Aren't you supposed to be in uniform? And…that's not blood is it?"

Purple cleared his throat in irritation, interrupting the seemingly endless jabber of excited, but unnecessary, chit-chat. He strode over to Teem and looked down on her, furrowing his brow and crossing his arms over his chest. "Who is this, Tallest Red? Might I remind you that we have pressing business to attend to concerning the Armada?" He asked, a twinge of bitter envy lacing his voice as he watched the Irken remove her hands from Red.

Red could sense the tension growing as Teem respectfully saluted Purple from below. "My Tallest! It is an honor to receive your company. Forgive me for not introducing myself properly. I am Irken Teem. I own this establishment and humbly welcome you to Naphrus 8, sir." Her voice took on an almost rehearsed formality.

Purple looked her from head to toe, stopping to scrutinize her heavy makeup and trying his best not to sneer. "Thank you, civilian." His polite tone seemed ingenuine. "Tallest Red and I are in need of immediate assistance and require lodging and a transmitter capable of penetrating deep space."

Teem's eyes grew wide and she glanced back to Red, mouth agape. "Oh? Is something wrong? Must be serious if you need one with that kind of power."

Red's demeanor changed as he felt a grave concern flood over him. He nodded but was too exhausted to get into the details right now. Besides, Teem's security clearance expired with her retirement so the New Resisty really wasn't really her business. "We've had a long couple of days. Can we eat?" Even in the light of everything happening, food was the only thing his mind kept coming back to.

"Of course! You two must be so cold!" She speedily turned and scooped up her chips from the ground, balancing them in her armpits. "I'll have my mate fix you something and we'll find you some clean clothes. You're both so tall so we'll have to figure something out, but we can make it work." She turned back to Purple, who eyed her suspiciously. "I have an old transmitter in the back room. I would be happy to assist you in any way that I can, my Tallest."

With that she turned and practically kicked in the rusted door to The Smash, throwing it open and forcing her way into the crowd as smoke and the smell of sex enveloped her. Red exchanged a nervous glance with Purple, who didn't seem at all enthusiastic about venturing into the bar after his old colleague. In fact, he seemed absolutely revolted by her.

"Come on, we can rest here." Red reassured him, hoping to perk him up a little. "And I know you're hungry, too. We need this."

"Who is that Irken that hugged you?" Purple asked suddenly, refusing to budge from his spot. He placed his hands on his hips and scrutinized Red's face as he stuttered.

Red battled to figure out where the weight behind Purple's voice was coming from. "Why does that matter? She and I used to work together on the base when I was a commander. She was over the women's fleet."

Purple didn't seem totally convinced. He was careful with his words, trying to mask his jealousy over the eager hug Teem had given his co-leader. It wasn't any of his business, but he couldn't help but feel annoyed at how freely Red had embraced her in return.

"You seem really close."

"I guess."

Purple glared at him as if to urge him to continue on, wanting to know more and probing for personal information. It made Red squirm.

"We casually dated for about half a cycle, but I ended it when I left for the Massive. Long distance doesn't really work out and I wanted to focus on my job."

"Oh. I see." Purple's tone was straightforward, and his antennae pushed back in a display of clear dissatisfaction for something Red didn't catch. "I'm glad you two could meet again."

Red furrowed his brow as he watched Purple stride past him and into the bar, leaving him out in the cold to wonder what the hell just happened. Was he seriously _jealous_ of Teem? What did he have to be jealous about? As if things weren't already weird and complicated enough between the two, now Red had this to contemplate? Purple was so convoluted and exasperating to the point that Red wished he came with a mute button. It's not like they were a couple or anything so what right did Purple have to get all worked up over his past relationships? He and Teem sporadically saw each other on the side; it wasn't anything serious anyway. Sure, they went out to eat together and shared some late nights back in Red's office, amongst other things, but their feelings for one another had long since dissolved. He and Purple were _Tallest_. They had to keep up appearances, and as much as Red had liked Teem in the past when they were the same height, Purple had nothing to worry about now. She would never be fit enough to have her non-conformist hands in Irken politics. Red was long since over the false allure of that ludicrous lifestyle. He huffed silently to himself, only feeling the painstaking questions floating around in his mind grow in fiery concentration. He honestly wasn't sure how much more of this he could take. How stupid did he have to be to worry about what Purple thought?

Purple reappeared briefly in the doorway, shooting Red a controlling glance that made him shiver. "Are you coming? I'm starving and I want to call the Armada so we can get out of here."

Red hesitated but nodded, following after his mind-bending companion. The two wiggled into the thick, frenzied crowd behind Teem. She stopped, passing the chips to the bouncer and stomped her heavy combat boots on the trash littered floor in an attempt to harness the fleeting attention of her patrons. The drunken passion of the crowd refused to let up and she glanced back anxiously to where Purple stared her down, unimpressed and unrelenting. Red watched as Teem swallowed nervously and took a breath.

"Listen up you freaks of nature!" She bellowed over the thunderous commotion. The band died down, instruments hushing gawkily. "Quiet down! We have two very important guests joining us tonight and I expect you to be on your best behavior!"

"Fuck off, Teem!" A voice shouted from somewhere in one of the hazy back corners of the room. "Where's the music?!"

Purple narrowed his eyes and scanned the sea of grubby faces. "Excuse me?" He called back, exerting a force over the crowd that Red had seen him project only in dire circumstances. "Your Almighty Tallest are joining you for a stay and that is how you choose to greet us?"

Red felt his breath catch at the severity of Purple's tone. Man, he must have really pissed him off when he hugged Teem. How was Red supposed to know he would freak out and throw a fit? A cacophony of gasps rang out over the crowd, followed by a deafening silence as the party-goers realized they were standing in the presence of their esteemed Tallest. Despite their need to rebel, hats and goggles were immediately removed out of respect and the shuffling of feet died down. A few tiny coughs and hiccups broke the reticence as the crowd waited rigidly for further instruction, the primeval need to please their leaders overcoming their need to get drunk.

When Purple was satisfied, he spoke again. "Thank you. Now, we have some pressing business to attend to. I would like to ask each of you to keep an eye out for four Meekrob soldiers, two Plookesian guards, and a Vortian doctor with freckles and a hole in his shoulder. All are wanted for war crimes against the Empire and have been spotted in the area. We also have reason to believe that a fleet of Inquisitorians is patrolling over Irk." There was a furious chatter and Purple continued. "If you have any information regarding these beings or notice anything suspicious, you may approach Tallest Red or I. You may resume…um…whatever it is you're doing."

There was a pause before the crowd erupted back into loud, dirty jubilation as they clapped for their Tallest. The band flew back to life and the hectic dancing resumed, making it horribly difficult to move anywhere without brushing or bumping into someone dancing over someone else. None of the intoxicated Irkens seemed to mind, lost in the feelings of unrestricted freedom and the saccharine taste of fermented sugar. It was impossible to distinguish any one conversation above the garbled mess, overloading Red's senses and making him feel claustrophobic.

"Please, if you would be so kind as to come with me, my Tallest!" Teem called out over the noise. "We'll go somewhere quiet so you can rest!"

She forced her way through the crowd, throwing inebriated dancers out of the way until she reached the panel in the back of the room, scanning her palm on the reader and stepping through the door. She held it open respectfully for her leaders before allowing it to shut gently behind the three of them, sealing the chaos away. Red coughed and waved a hand in front of his face, overcome by the all too familiar smell of hormones, drugs, and shame, much to his displeasure. It was quiet and the lighting was opaque and misty. The floor was coated in a thin layer of glitter and Red was sure only Irkens with special privilege were allowed to venture back here. Stained beds littered the far wall where couples engaged in lascivious sexual acts, drunk and unrestrained. A few Irken businessmen puffed on something foul in the corner, lighting small, messy bundles of purple leaves and bringing them to their lips with sharp inhales. Smoke curled lazily from their lungs as they chatted leisurely over the suggestive, raunchy music. A stocky woman dipped her fingers in something on her table and rubbed the unknown substance over her gums, throwing her head back as the immediate rush of a high penetrated her bloodstream. A fleet of loud-mouthed Elite trainees sat close by, hooting uncontrollably at a group of short female dancers as they peeled off their mock invader's costumes and threw them haphazardly to the side with a collective giggle. Red noticed Purple avert his gaze to the floor and flush with a scowl when the girls slung their naked forms over the soldiers, lips connecting sloppily and hands roaming without inhibition to unbutton their crisp uniforms.

Teem rolled her eyes. "Ugh. Those guys come here every fall on their leave." She snickered and snapped her fingers, only halfway earning their distracted attention. "You better be paying my girls this time! I don't care who your superiors are, I'll kick your skinny asses if you skip out on me again!"

There were a few silent thumbs up thrown to the air and Teem groaned, shaking her head and guiding Red and Purple deeper into the regulation nightmare that was The Smash. Red was almost positive this place wasn't up to code and was conflicted about whether he should report them or not. He stepped over the body of a Screwhead passed out face down on the floor in his own drool, identification papers strewn about him and an empty bottle in his hand. Red swallowed and decided to keep quiet for now, feeling Purple huddle close to him as they meandered, clearly perturbed by the sounds and smells floating hazily around them and unable to look up out of fear he'd see something he wouldn't be able to forget.

"Teem, this place is…" Red tried to find the right word. "…exotic."

Teem shot him a sly glance and chuckled. "Don't tell me you've gone soft, Red? You're not gonna report us now that you're Tallest, are you?" She was only half-teasing, fishing for information and trying to subtly will him to keep his mouth shut.

Purple latched onto Red's elbow possessively at the comment, eyes snapping up and following Teem to another door. "Yes, we are. This is all very illegal." He scoffed in a matter-of-fact voice. "We appreciate your help, but the Empire cannot condone such acts of profanity. They are a disgrace to the image of the Irken people." His jealousy lingered in his voice, satisfied that he could bear down on the skinny civilian.

Teem blinked and grew nervous, leading them to yet another door and pushing it open. She didn't say anything but ushered them through, deep in thought over Purple's harsh words and what they would do for the future of her livelihood.

Red tugged away from his friend. "As long as no one overdoses and dies, you're fine. I think we can look away this one time." His words came out as a growl and Purple narrowed his eyes slightly in disagreement but didn't press the topic any further.

Teem relaxed a little and locked the door behind them, leading them through into much cleaner, much more spacious living quarters. The furniture wasn't stained with sweat and the floors were neatly swept. Little knick-knacks littered well dusted shelves and showcased Teem's time patrolling the cosmos to faraway lands and cultures. Several rooms remained hidden behind half closed doors and the smell of something sugary and delicious wafted through the foyer.

"Honey? Is that you?" A voice called from the other room, followed by a metallic clatter.

Teem shifted nervously. "Yes! One sec!" She turned back to her Tallest and couldn't meet their gaze, growing uncomfortable. "Look, Red, I have to tell you something." Her voice dropped to a whisper at the confused look washing over her friend's form. "I've changed since you left and figured some things out about myself that you may not like. I guess what I'm trying to say is, my mate isn't…_conventional_ to the will of the Empire and I hope you, as Tallest, can find it in you to try and understand my choices."

Purple blinked, suddenly intrigued. "What does that mean?"

Before Teem could elaborate, an adorable, tiny Irken appeared from around the corner and the two immediately saw what she meant by unconventional. Her mate was a woman. A _short_ woman. There was several feet of disturbing height difference between Teem and her partner and Red finally gave up overanalyzing, exhausted by the bizarre occurrences the universe was suddenly pummeling him with. Could this vacation get any more backwards? Despite her diminutive stature, the Irken was dressed well in the newest fashion and appeared respectable and well-educated. She was barefoot against the warm tile and clean faced; not a drop of makeup stained her features. It was refreshing to see a female who didn't slather ungodly amounts of color over her cheeks and appreciated beauty for what it was. Red tried not to appear unnerved as he gave the little lady a pained, and obviously forced, smile. She froze with a squeak when she saw her Tallest, almost dropping the tray of steaming pastries she had been holding and scrambling to keep her grip without burning herself.

"Oh my Irk! My Tallest! I-In my quarters?" She sputtered, her nerves getting the best of her. She glanced wildly with wide pink eyes from her mate to her leaders and desperately tried to find something to say. "Ah! Forgive me! I-I didn't expect you to ever be in a place like this, sirs! Where are my manners? Please, make yourselves comfortable!" She gestured to their expensive plush couch.

"Your mate is a woman? But she's so _short_ and you're so _tall_!" Red blurted out rudely, unable to contain himself.

"Thank you!" Purple chimed in, cutting him off before he could question anything further.

Red watched, dumbfounded, as Purple crossed forward and followed the little Irken to the loveseat, smiling warmly when he sat and was offered a hot pastry. There was a renewed comfort to Purple's movements that Red hadn't seen in days as Teem's mate fawned over him and his impressive height, frantically asking him all the usual fan questions about the Massive and the Armada. Purple chuckled eagerly and motioned for her to sit, losing himself in her innocence and appearing thoroughly amused when she saluted and positioned herself rigidly next to him. What a strange character change. Red was almost sure Purple had been angry with him, so why was he suddenly acting like nothing was ever wrong?

"This is Kez, my life partner." Teem grumbled under her breath, mortified at the condemnatory look on Red's face. "Kez, I would like to introduce you to our Almighty Tallest. They will be staying with us for the evening and using our transmitter to contact their advisory team on the Massive."

Kez recollected herself and set the tray on the coffee table before them, placing her hands respectfully in her lap. "It is such an honor to have you in our home, sirs. Anything you need, we will gladly provide."

Purple took another bite of Kez's cooking, melting into the smooth taste. "Oh, Irk, this is amazing. We haven't eaten in forever." He shoved the rest of the pastry in his mouth and grabbed for another one, earning a surprised blink from his host.

"Y-You like them? I'm glad! I made them myself." Her voice swelled with pride but then dipped in confusion. "Pardon me, it is not my place to ask, sir, but were you lost?"

Purple glanced at Red and swallowed, wiping his mouth on the back of his tattered sleeve. "Kind of." He said slowly, unsure of how much he could divulge without saying too much. They had to keep the rebellion under wraps until they were safely aboard the Massive again. "We ran into some unexpected trouble."

Red still couldn't say anything. He watched his ex-girlfriend nod at the vague explanation and move to sit next to her partner. She too grabbed a pastry and popped it in her mouth with a hesitant smile, easing gradually into the change of mood and slowly growing accustomed to Purple's now friendly demeanor. Any remaining feeling of rivalry and jealousy dissipated, and Purple started up a conversation with the two, commenting on how nice and organized their home was while shoveling food into his mouth. Red watched them for a moment in uncertainty, three rebellious souls chatting lightly together until something clicked and realization came over him. Teem and Kez were Purple's kind. No wonder he was so excited and relaxed; he didn't have to compete with them over Red's attention.

"Stop staring and come eat, Red." Purple piped up between chews. "They're good!"

Red felt outnumbered. Was he the only normal one here? He took a shallow breath and swallowed the lump forming in his throat, taking a few steps and squeezing around Teem and Kez to sit next to his co-leader, sinking down heavily into the cushions of the couch. Purple shoved a pastry into his hands and flashed him a cozy smile, trying to silently remind him to be polite. Like he was one to talk. Purple had jumped down Teem's throat not fifteen minutes ago. Kez leaned forward with bated breath when Red took a tentative bite, surprised by the intensity of the flavor and the flakiness of the crust. He felt himself almost tear up being able to eat again, forcing the whole pastry into his mouth a little too eagerly.

Teem watched him, amused. "Have as many as you want." She offered.

Purple leaned back, feeling completely at home. Red practically choked when he asked Teem and Kez something deeply personal and deeply prohibited. "How long have you two been life partners?"

Kez's eyes lit up at the inquiry and looked like she would burst. She looked to Teem, who returned her bright smile, before turning eagerly back to Purple. "I was afraid, my Tallest, that our unconventional relationship would offend you!" Emotion flooded over her, but she held it back. "Teem and I were unable to go through a physical ceremony, but we have been together for four cycles now."

Purple nodded, listening to her explanation as if it was completely normal. "Why would I be offended?" He took another bite and hesitated. "I think it's nice that the society we live in is becoming more progressive."

Oh, Irk, this was going too far! Red felt himself break out in a sweat as Purple continued to probe and press about their relationship. Did he not realize he was throwing all four of them into a dangerous fire? If any of this somehow made it back to the Control Brains, they would surely be reprimanded. Teem and Kez would either be arrested or deactivated, and he and Red would be severely punished. Red shuddered where he sat, afraid of what sadistic penalty the Control Brains would have waiting for them. He picked nervously at his cuticles. He should be bringing these two Irkens in for trial on Judgementia for social misdemeanor, not sitting here eating with them.

"-and we decided that it would be nice to stay out here." Kez's voice flooded back to the forefront of Red's mind and he blinked. "It's pretty secluded in Naphrus and people don't care about our lifestyle that much. There's two nice boys a few doors down who moved here for the same reason."

"Interesting. I wasn't aware that any place like this existed in the Empire." Purple mused, running over a map of Irk in his mind. "I'd be interested in learning more about the customs here. Maybe someday you'll be able to have a ceremony like everyone else before the Control Brains."

Teem reached out and took another pastry, locking eyes with Purple. The conversation hushed and a comforting sensation fell over them like a weighty blanket. What Red saw next astounded him and pulled him deeper into the strange discussion, officially putting the hook in him to explore things further. In all the time he had known Teem, in all the intimate exchanges they used to share, he had never seen that look in her eye. It was a look of pure, unrelenting trust. There was an undying loyalty to Purple that shone deeply behind her lenses, his words penetrating her on a level that Red didn't even know she had. When she spoke, her voice shook, but was the most genuine sound he'd ever heard from her.

"Thank you." She breathed, holding Purple's eye contact. "You have no idea how much that means to me…to _us_. I never knew we had a Tallest who was so modern in his thinking. You give me hope for the future." A sudden fire erupted over her and she grinned wildly, overcome by her passion. "I would follow you anywhere, my Tallest!"

Red felt his own expression soften as Purple did the unexpected. He broke his air of regal formality and reached out, pulling Teem into an embrace and squishing Kez in between them. Red blinked slowly at the exquisite feeling he picked up in his antennae, reveling in the rare bliss Purple was radiating.

"Ah! M-My Tallest, you're crushing me!"

The two pulled back and Kez gasped. "You're welcome. We need more Irkens like you two in our society." Purple cleared his throat and straightened back up, attempting to restore his position as a leader and not appear weak, not knowing he was actually far from it.

There was a silence as the four ate together for a long while. Small talk would wind back up and dwindle and a few simple stories were exchanged. After they had finished off the tray, Teem spoke back up.

"Kez, why don't you take Tallest Purple to the guest room and get him out of those awful clothes? If you wouldn't mind running him a bath; he must be so sore from his hike."

Kez hopped up and nodded enthusiastically. "Of course."

Purple looked to Red apprehensively, not wanting to be separated after all the time they had spent together. All Red could do was shrug silently at the unexpected request, watching as Purple pushed himself up and followed the tiny Irken out of sight, stealing a final glance at Red before disappearing completely. He felt his pulse quicken when he heard a door creak closed, leaving only him and Teem together to continue their talk. As soon as they were alone, she looked incredibly uncomfortable, squirming away to the other end of the loveseat. Red did the same and refused to look at her, unsure of what to say after all these cycles apart.

"Um…" Teem began, trailing off. "I'm glad you're happy."

Red swallowed and glanced in her direction, catching sight of her nervous posture. "You too."

She took a deep breath. "I used to watch projections of your speeches all the time. I've always admired you two." A small smile peaked on her face and she rested her arm lightly on the plush armrest. "He's really nice. Nothing like I expected him to be."

Red relaxed a little into the conversation. "Purple? Oh, yeah, he's great. Don't let him fool you though; I've seen him shoot catering staff into space when they've messed up his orders. He's soft on the outside but a total bastard on the inside."

Teem couldn't help but giggle at the gruesome image. "It's a good thing Kez is a good cook then." She paused and looked down at the floor, thinking quickly. "I'm happy you two aren't going to arrest us. I was afraid of that as soon as you met her."

Red couldn't help but feel sorry for Teem, the same feeling of uncertainty overcoming him from when he found out about Purple's preferences. "Well…no. But you have to keep this between us. This could ruin all four of us if it got out that we didn't do anything to bring you in."

Teem crossed her arms and bristled, her antennae shooting up. "I hate that you have to even say that." She muttered crossly. "I know it's not your fault. It's the Control Brains. Why can't we just be happy without the threat of being murdered? Is happiness really that bad?"

Red didn't have an answer for her and kept quiet, watching her seethe to herself. What had happened to her to make her so jaded? Red swallowed, becoming suddenly aware of how empty and cold he felt without Purple here with him. Even if he was in the other room close by, Red still felt lost and incomplete, a numbness creeping in that threatened to take him. He needed to feel Purple there next to him, needed to hear his stupid voice. He frowned to himself and Teem took notice, leaning forward slightly where she sat.

"What's this really all about Red?" She asked gently, pressuring him to speak. "I know you can't tell me about whatever rebellion is going on for security reasons and I respect that. But there's something else. I know you; I can see it on your face."

Red internally battled with himself once more, unsure of how much he could say without putting himself in a bind. The same stupid word creeped back into his mind and he tried to push it away with little success. After everything, he was still curious. Curious about this whole unexplored world opening up to him.

"Do you want to ask me something?" Teem whispered softly, keeping her voice down to preserve their privacy. "You know I won't make fun of you, Red."

"No, I know that." Red slumped back with a sigh. "There's been some things happening that I don't understand."

Teem's discomfort faded and she moved back across the loveseat, drawing closer to her old colleague to hear him better. "Is it about me and Kez?"

Red stiffened at the mention of Kez's name and he felt a little pang of guilt for feeling so offended with their relationship. He pursed his lips, not quite sure how to get to the point. "Kind of." He reached up and ran a hand over his cheek in exasperation. "Why…why did you seek her out? Like, why did you feel the need to find an Irken of the same sex?"

Teem blinked at the valid question. She thought a moment and gazed up at the ceiling, trying to find a way to reply. "I don't know. I dated a few guys after you left, and I can't deny that I really liked all of them. I never sought Kez out; she and I came together on accident. I bought this place and needed a food service drone to work the kitchen, so I hired her and we clicked."

Red nodded, following her words closely. "And you went from liking men to liking women?" His question was barely audible and dripped with misunderstanding.

Teem stared up at him and, much to his surprise, laughed. "What? No. I still like men." She gave another giggle when she noticed Red wasn't following her. "I like _both_, stupid. I found that out with Kez. There was just something about her personality that I loved."

"Both?" Red repeated. He never knew that was even a possibility. "But…how can you like both if you are only with one?"

Teem gave an over exaggerated sigh and flopped back, groaning loudly. "Irk, you are just as naive as I remember you. I like men _and_ women. That's it. There's nothing else to it. Just because I am with a woman now doesn't mean I didn't crave men in the past or still feel things for them sometimes. Do you really think I would have been so eager to sleep with you if I didn't also like guys?"

Red flinched at the memory but quickly waved it on, choosing to let the past lie. There was something remarkably comforting about Teem's explanation that released a bit of the agonizing tension building up inside his chest. He could breathe a little easier and felt his mind slow to a dull roar, finally able to rationalize some of the disturbing things that floated through his psyche. They were still foreign and unsettling, but at least now he had some kind of an explanation to fall back on should he need it.

"Wait, why are you asking?" Teem said slowly, narrowing her eyes at him. Red fidgeted and she leaned back forward, gripping the edge of the couch and trying to meet his gaze. "Red?"

"If you don't tell anyone what I'm about to say, I won't tell anyone about you and your partner." He mumbled under his breath, unintentionally blackmailing her. He had to be absolutely sure she wouldn't let this leak. "If any of this gets out to the rest of the Empire, there could be drastic consequences."

Teem swallowed thickly. "That bad?" She gave a nervous chuckle. "I guess we're in too deep now, so spit it out. Whatever you say stays in this room with me."

Red still didn't feel quite safe but was sure he probably never would. He had to talk this out with someone or the suspense of not knowing would eat him alive, and he sure as hell wasn't going to have this conversation with Purple.

"It's about Purple." He began, making sure he had Teem's undivided attention. "He…um…"

Teem's face suddenly lit up in false understanding and her jaw went slack. "Woah, woah, woah." She held a hand out in front of her and curled her lip. "You and _him_? You're a thing?"

"N-no!" Red hissed out his humiliation. "But…he told me he loved me."

Teem jolted in surprise and Red watched as her eyes widened slightly at the weight of his words. She cocked her head with a tiny blink. "Huh." She responded simply, mulling everything over. "I guess I can see that. It's something about the way he looks at you that gives it away."

"What?! How come everyone else sees it but it took me cycles to figure it out? Is it really _that_ obvious?"

Teem licked her finger and reached forward, dipping it into the remaining crumbs on the tray before bringing them to her mouth. "It's only obvious if you know what to look for. I suspected a little something when I saw you guys holding hands outside."

Red slumped forward and rested his head in his hands. "Fuck." He cursed hotly, feeling his cheeks flush with color. "I don't know what to do about him. I can't look at him the same way anymore without feeling…embarrassed. I have to fix this before we contact the Armada. We can't go back like this."

Teem sucked on her finger and shook her head. "Sounds like a personal problem to me." She rolled her eyes when Red looked up, desperate for her to explain. "Look, if you don't like him back then you don't have to do _anything_ about it. Just let it be and he'll move on over time. Unless," she squinted knowingly at him, "there's a part of you that doesn't want him to move on."

Red averted his eyes once more and poked his tongue nervously at the empty socket where his canine once was. Teem watched him closely, observing every twitch of his fingers and dart of his anxious gaze. She gave him a soft, motherly smile and reached out, placing a delicate hand over his forearm and squeezing lightly.

"I knew it. It's alright, Red. I think it's perfectly normal to be curious about things like this." She breathed.

"It's wrong." Red muttered, finally halfway admitting his own doubt to himself. "It goes against the laws set in place by the Control Brains."

"No, it's natural. Just because something is a law doesn't always make it right. I look at you now and I see myself when I was trying to figure out what I felt for Kez. I know it's scary, but you have to try and be honest with yourself, no matter how hard that seems."

Red didn't move. He stared blankly forward, terrified to come to terms with what he was actually feeling. "But, I like women." He began to argue with some unseen force. "I always have. I've never been attracted to men or male anatomy. For some reason, ever since Purple told me he…well…you know…I haven't been able to keep him out of my head. I've never felt anything like this and it's freaking me out." He paused and took a shaky breath. "I can't live with all of this uncertainty. I'm not even sure what I'm uncertain about!"

Teem shushed him, glancing behind her to the other room, making sure they weren't heard. She rubbed at Red's arm, trying to calm him. "Maybe you're like me. It's possible to like women and men. Or, maybe Purple is just an exception to the rule. You can have feelings for him and not have to like other guys. Get what I'm saying? Do you want to know what I did to figure out what I felt about my mate?"

"What?"

"I asked if we could experiment with each other."

"Experiment?"

"Yeah, but only light little things like kissing and touching antennae. You won't know if you like it unless you try it."

Red felt his breath hitch at the risqué idea. Kiss? _Touch antennae_? But that was so intimate. Couples touched antennae to share their deepest thoughts, feelings, and desires with one another in tandem, pouring forth only things that could be expressed exclusively through emotion in the absence of words. Red had done it before with Teem. It was a life-changing experience, to say the least, allowing two Irkens to reach into one another's souls and join together in the most profound of ways. It made you feel naked and completely venerable, putting everything you were and everything you would become in the hands of someone else. Could he…do that with Purple?

"I know you, Red." Teem withdrew her hand and stood with a stretch. "You're not going to let this go until you know for sure what you feel. If you're not sure, you should ask him to try a few things. If you feel nothing, move on and let it go. If you feel _something_, well…you'll figure it out along the way like I did."

Red watched as she knocked on the door to the guest room. Kez immediately darted out and closed the door behind her, grinning up at her partner before yawning. Teem put a hand amorously on her shoulder and turned back to Red a final time.

"The transmitter is set up in your room whenever you're ready for it and the bed is already made. You should go join your friend for a soak and try to relax a little. You've been through a lot." Teem yawned herself and blinked heavily. "We're going to bed. If anyone knocks at the door, don't answer it unless it's the bouncer. There's this weird guy that keeps coming around asking for pills and he threw up on my table the last time he was here so I'm trying to get rid of him." She paused. "Beer is in the fridge. You're gonna need it."

Red gave her a small nod. "Thank you." His tone was genuinely appreciative despite his discomfort.

"Goodnight, my Tallest! If you need anything at all, feel free to wake us. There's snacks in the kitchen if you get hungry and I'll make you whatever you'd like for breakfast before you leave." Kez gave him a little wave and followed Teem into a side room, the two shutting the door behind them with a click.

Red heard Teem and Kez's muffled giggles from behind the wall before they died down completely, leaving the bass of the bar to thump quietly through the room like a steady heartbeat. Red smoothed back his antennae and rested his forehead in his palm, closing his tired eyes. Teem had a point. He couldn't move on until he satisfied his need to know what Purple felt like. He shuddered but swallowed his pride, trying to imagine what it would be like if he agreed. He'd already belittled Purple for what he felt and completely rejected him; how could he come back and ask for something so out of character? Red shook his head to himself. Was all of this really ok? Teem seemed to think so. She and Kez seemed pretty happy out here in the forest. But, Red and Purple didn't have that option to remove themselves from society to live a fantasy. They were the face of the Irken Empire and everything they did was closely monitored and replayed over and over in the media. On the horrendous off-chance that Red somehow felt something with Purple, where would they even go from there? Would they have to hide for the rest of their lives? He swallowed the thought and took a deep breath. What was he thinking? There was no way in a million cycles that he would feel anything. All this was to him was a science experiment, a fleeting short in his system that could only be solved with research, a ghost of forbidden excitement in his code. He felt his logic kick back in and straightened up, gaining a bit of confidence back. Yeah. That's what it was. A ghost of something that would fade. Even Teem had called it an experiment. Red pushed himself up and cracked his knuckles, forcing away the shaky feeling in his legs. He was going to put an end to all of this ridiculous madness whether it was legal or not.

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This took so long to post. Sorry. I had a few emergency panels I had to get done for work. But here it is! Please review; it lets me know what you think and what I can do better. The next chapter is going to be really fun.


	9. More Than That

Ok here we go, fam. _Here we go_. We gonna dive deep here and truly ignite this slow burn for the first time. Reviews are incredibly appreciated, as I always say, and thank you for your continued views! (THIS IS GONNA BE A LONG ASS CHAPTER BY THE WAY YOU'RE WELCOME)!

Welcome **Renard bleu **and** Skystream99** to the follow family! Thank you **Skystream99** for favoriting this story and me as an author! I'm really glad you like what I write, honey!

**Chapter rated M for alcohol consumption and graphic depictions of adult and sexual content. I repeat, **_**this chapter includes explicit sexual content**_**_._ You have been warned so proceed at your own risk. I do urge you, however, to realize that there is essential character development happening in this chapter and should you not want to read it, you risk the potential of not picking up on that. Up to you boo!**

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It was quiet. The familiar sounds of the forest outside had been drowned out, replaced by the relaxing thump of faint music and pounding feet. Crimson fumes licked at the atmosphere, curling effortlessly from the surface of the bathing pool and scenting the air with a familiar, bitter smell. Purple sunk lower into the liquid bromine, sucking in the soothing scent and closing his eyes to the amber warmth shrouding his naked form. He let his mind wander, replaying haunting scenes from the hike and allowing himself to feel them fully for the first time. The agony of torture. The gut-wrenching fear of Meekrob alarm bells. The burning of his muscles as he dragged his limp friend through miles of forest. Blood. There was so much blood. Visions of death danced to the forefront and he willed his breathing to calm. It didn't help. The feeling of Urb Yen's jugular pounding underneath his fingers. Her frantic claws digging into his flesh. The stillness of her cold body underneath him. Life was so fragile, a tiny flame that could be snuffed out as easily as it was lit. Purple had snuffed out that flame with his own fingers. There was no going back and his PAK wouldn't let him forget the loss of whatever innocence he had held on to, replaying the memory on a cruel loop. Even when he closed his eyes all he could see was two beady pink orbs staring up at him, one dead and one full of terrible, profound fear. He had murdered someone. It was different than killing from afar in the vast void of space; it was intimate in the worst of ways. Urb Yen's soul had permeated his and had an icy grip on his conscious, unrelenting and ruthlessly unwavering. It was sickening, organ twisting. Her maniacal voice sliced his thoughts. In a way, she had achieved part of her goal to overtake him, and Purple would never forget her for as long as he existed. He hadn't cried this much in his life but, in the moment, no more tears would come. He felt distant, detached from his body and drifting to some unknown destination he would never reach. There was an anxious anger deep within him that he fought to wrangle but only found it dampened with hopelessness. Kez had been comforting, the warm light of her personality shining through the darkness Purple felt himself slipping into. Even if he didn't know her, he had silently begged her to stay, despondency overcoming him when she left. Maybe he just wanted _someone_ to stay, to cut through the intense loneliness and sickness in his heart. They didn't even have to talk. All he wanted was the consoling presence of a warmhearted body to hold him. He wanted Red's presence.

Purple knew they were ruined. He had destroyed the little spark that had been growing between them from the first witty banter they had shared so long ago. As much as Red had reassured him that they were going to remain friends, Purple knew in the back of his mind that would never be. They would return to the Armada and board the Massive and that would be the beginning to their end. He always knew it would happen, but never foresaw anything quite like this. They would talk as normal, eat as normal, and everything would be disguised in the normalcy that would never return. Eventually they would drift, change a meeting here and there, holding a few private conferences on opposite ends of the ship, go to sleep without hushed late-night talks. Then, it would only be a façade. One of them would move out into different quarters and Purple could already see the work crew hauling boxes and furniture through the narrow corridors. They would keep up appearances for the public, but as soon as the doors closed, Red would slip from him again. Purple would grow old and die alone, remembered for his strength and contributions to social science but every drop of love in his body would pour away in an instant, unknown and forgotten. Red would forget him. Purple wanted to go to the bar and drink until he passed out in his own vomit. This wasn't like him. He never wanted to get drunk but, right now, there was nothing more inviting than turning off. The only way he could forget his burning need for Red was to drown it so he wouldn't chase it.

Purple felt his antennae twitch unconsciously at the presence of a small sound in the distance, barely noticeable over the steady drum of the music outside. Something opened and slammed shut, followed by slow, cautious footsteps. He opened his eyes when the door to the guest room swung open with a creak then closed. Purple sunk deeper into the hot bromine of the small bathing pool, wishing he could hide away and never come back out. A knock echoed through the metal and into the cleansing room, bouncing off of the ceramic tile as Purple silently willed whoever it was to leave. He waited a moment and rolled his eyes when another, hastier knock rang out.

"Yes?" Purple called, slinging his elbow over the side of the pool and trying to sound as polite as possible, despite being on the edge.

"It's me, you dork."

Purple blinked, panic overriding his loneliness. Red? Dammit, he had the worst timing. Purple stared at the door for a few long seconds before frowning, trying not to let his apprehensions shine through in his voice. "What do you want?"

There was a pause, followed by the sound of Red leaning against the panel. "Can I come in?"

Purple felt a small inkling of embarrassment. He turned his back to the door and felt a twinge of color form over his cheeks. "No. I'm not done yet." He called back, hoping Red would go away no matter how much he secretly wanted him here.

"So? We bathe together all the time." Red replied, growing slightly irritated. Purple didn't expect any different. "Are you really going to make me stand out here covered in dirt and dried blood? That's low, Pur, even for you."

"Let me finish first. I'll be quick." Purple felt his voice waver. After everything…their tear-filled fight and the consolation that followed, their trek hand in hand, and the warm safety they shared here with Irkens like him, he still couldn't face the monster he had unleashed. He _still_ wasn't ready.

Purple shot up in surprise when Red pushed the door open regardless, oblivious and uncaring to his wishes.

"Hey! What the hell?" Purple scolded, feeling his own testiness spike at Red's lack of consideration. He scrambled to cover himself, somehow feeling wrong despite the hundreds of times Red had seen him before.

"It's just you and me, Pur. Teem and Kez went to sleep." Red said quietly, crossing to the edge of the pool and holding up six bottles of alcohol, three in each hand. He smiled down at Purple who eyed him suspiciously. "Look what I found in the kitchen." He set them on the tile and turned his back to Purple, unzipping his jacket and tossing it to the side.

Purple reached out and snatched one of the bottles, feeling his mouth begin to water when he realized what it was. Sugar beer from Yaga Minor. Teem had good taste. He popped the cap and flicked it to the side, bringing the bottle to his lips and taking a long, hearty swig. It was strong, unbearably sweet, and thick like syrup. The carbonation stung the back of his throat, burning all the way down and heating him from the inside out. At least it would get the job done. Maybe now he could forget for a while.

There was a rustle of fabric as Red stripped, followed by a metallic clink as he dropped Urb Yen's pistol to the floor. Shit. Red was going to get in with him, wasn't he? Purple watched him out of his peripheries, allowing his gaze to trail down Red's heavily scarred back. He had touched them; knew what they felt like and memorized the story behind each of them. A plasma shot on his right shoulder from a failed invasion of Boodie Nen. A long knife wound from a training accident on Devastis. Hundreds of tiny burns from a crash landing on an uninhabited moon during the second Irken-Guarven Conflict. Purple could almost feel them; raised and firm under his fingertips, each a hollow reminder of the imperialistic needs of the Empire and Red's love of violence. He swallowed and took another drink, turning away as Red bent down to tug off his boots. Stop looking. You're not allowed to anymore, you know that. Purple tensed and gripped the neck of his bottle tightly when he heard Red pad barefoot across the tile, gently displacing the amber liquid as he carefully slipped into the pool. Hot waves licked at Purple's chest as he stared intently at the far wall, moving away inconspicuously to put more distance in between the two in the already cramped space.

Red gave a contented sigh and leaned back against the lip of the bath. "This feels great." He breathed, running his fingers through the bromine and watching it ripple. "And," he reached over and grabbed a bottle for himself, popping it open, "it's about to get better."

Purple felt a tiny smirk split his face as the smell of alcohol overtook the bitter smell of bromine. "You don't need that. You get weird when you drink." He paused, amending his comment. "Never mind, you're already weird." When Red loosened up there was no telling what would come out of his mouth. Purple had learned a lot of tiny secrets that way, uncovering white lies he'd spread throughout the cycles. He remembered them all even now and kept them stored away until they argued.

"You don't need it either but you're still drinking it." Red chuckled. He took a sip and set the bottle back on the edge of the tile, cupping his hands and using the hot liquid to scrub his face. He wiped his mouth and heaved a contented sigh before speaking again. "After the hell we've been through, getting drunk with you sounds amazing. It reminds me of when we celebrated the first Great Assigning. Remember?"

Purple thought back and groaned. "Only a little. Everything is a blur from that night and I'm not sure I want to remember." He shuddered, knowing Red was going to tell him anyway to embarrass him.

Red admired the look on his face. "I remember. You were drunk off your ass after only six shots and kept yelling at your reflection in our window." He laughed through his teeth, the sound coming out as a hiss. "I can't believe you don't remember that! I tried to stop you, but you punched the glass and broke your finger. I had to walk you to the sick bay at two in the morning."

A faint, hazy memory of getting his finger set floated back into Purple's mind. "Give me a break! I thought it was Rarl Kove and you know how much I hate him. He's always stealing my limelight when he's around." Purple took another sip and pouted, putting on a mocking tone. "He always knows things I don't and makes me look like an idiot."

"Pur, you look nothing like Rarl Kove. And if you hate him so much, why'd you appoint him to the advisory team?"

"Because he's good at his job. I hate the guy, Red, but I know talent when I see it."

Red laughed. "You just don't want to deal with the navigation team yourself."

Purple couldn't argue with that. He glanced over, firmly reminding himself not to look down. Red grinned back at him, skin tinted a rusty rose by the chemical bath.

"We should toast!" He suggested eagerly, grabbing his bottle and holding it up. "To us not getting ripped apart by Vortians!"

Purple eyed him spiritedly and shook his head, raising his bottle to Red's with a clink and trying not to let a cheesy smile overtake him.

_Us_. The word rang out like a song.

Purple was beginning to feel safe again, sipping lightly on his drink and quickly finishing off his first bottle, setting it to the side and reaching for another. If they were going to do this, he wasn't going to hold back. He wanted to feel wild and untamed; to feel unrestricted by law and the weight of societies pressures confining him to the same prison every day. Red watched as he twisted the top on his second bottle, a look of impressed enjoyment shining in his wide eyes.

"Damn!" Red giggled, splashing in Purple's direction and making him flinch. "You think you finished that fast enough? I'm gonna have to drag you out of here if you don't slow down."

Purple took another gulp, continuing his reckless binge and daring Red to do the same. "Oh? Sorry, I thought we were drinking." He taunted challengingly. "You used to be able to drink me under the table. You've become such a _lightweight, _Red."

Red narrowed his eyes and Purple wasn't sure if he was annoyed or determined. Without a word he brought the beer to his lips and tipped his head back. Purple felt his jaw go slack as he watched Red pound back the rest of his drink, downing it in a remarkable few seconds. Holy shit. Purple swallowed, unable to look away. That was kind of…hot. Purple couldn't help but feel a bit flushed at the sight of Red's slick lips pressed against the glass, scolding himself furiously and tearing his gaze away. Shut up, shut up, _shut up_! You're so disgusting! Move on already and let it go.

Red finished and pulled back with a pop, coughing sharply and nearly dropping the empty bottle into the bath. He hiccupped and harshly cleared his throat at the burn, swallowing the taste and trying not to laugh in between rasps. Purple pulled the empty bottle away, afraid Red would break it, and replaced it with a full one.

"Who's the," another hefty cough, "lightweight _now_, Pur?"

Purple watched him with heavy, half-lidded eyes. He felt his face grow warm and wasn't sure if it was the heat of the bath or the alcohol beginning to leak into his bloodstream. Either way, it felt refreshing and pushed at the fringes of the deep-seated depression that was eating at him. It felt like they were celebrating life, or celebrating not losing it, and the awkwardness that had hung between them for hours was fading. Purple felt like he was getting his friend back and swelled at the idea that maybe they would be ok after all.

After a while, the bromine was getting to be unbearably warm. It hadn't taken long to finish off two bottles each and Purple was already beginning to feel it. His senses felt dulled and there was a persistent buzz in the back of his skull. He wasn't sure how much longer he would be able to rationalize things clearly, but he didn't care. Red took notice and chuckled, moving away the remaining bottles when Purple grabbed woozily at them.

"I think you're done now." He began, giving his antennae a final preen before standing and heaving himself from the bath. "We have to share the same bed, and I don't want you to get sick."

Purple watched him blearily as he scooped two towels from a stack across the room. "You don't know anything, Red." His voice came out as a slur and he tried hard to remain composed. "I'm an adult and I know my limits."

Red dried his face, his voice muffled by the plush fabric. "Whatever you say, Pur." He slung the towel around his waist and crossed back, reaching down and grabbing Purple under the arms.

"What are you doing? I can do it myself!" Purple snapped, trying to stand but nearly slipping in the process. "Dammit, you see what you made me do?"

Red fought back his amusement and held tight, pulling Purple up and helping him shakily step up and out of the bath. He wrapped the towel around his shoulders and rubbed at his arms. "If you're nice, I might take pity on you and let you share another one with me." He offered, reaching down and grabbing one of the final two bottles. "But you have to dry off and lay down. And no punching windows this time."

Purple shot him a toothy grin and leaned against him, allowing Red to walk him to the door panel and into the guest room. "I'm tipsy, Red, not drunk. It'll take more than two bottles of sugar beer to get me smashed. I can still think for myself."

Red let go of him when the panel closed, crossing to the bed. "You? Think for yourself?" He fake laughed at the idea. "Why do you always need me to make decisions for you then?"

Purple tugged at the towel, covering himself further and shivering slightly in the cool air. The light was dim and inviting, a welcome change from the deep, unrelenting dark of the wild. As Red fiddled with something, he took the opportunity to look around. The room was simple and clean, accented with beautiful paintings of Irken wildlife and plants. Did Teem or Kez paint these? Whoever had, they were nice. There was one small skylight cut into the ceiling, allowing the bright starlight of the Irken Nebula to pour through and cast an eerie glow around them. Kez had been nice enough to make up the small bed for them and lay out the transmitter on one of the pillows. Oh, right. The Armada. They needed to go back soon before the danger of the New Resisty claimed them and their planet. Who knows what Inquisitoria was up to, and every moment they spent here could put more Irken lives and territory under threat. They needed to bleed the New Resisty dry and, if necessary, break the peace and go to war.

"Red, we need to call the Massive." Purple spoke up, keeping his voice low.

Red turned slightly to face him, the light casting heavy shadows over him and adding cycles to his face. "I know. I'm ready to rip this resistance apart." An unexpected pause lingered between them. "But there's something we need to talk about first. I've been thinking and I can't go back until we get it over with and put it behind us for good. It's nothing bad…I think." He added quickly, trying to break up the heaviness of the sudden request.

Oh no. This couldn't be good. Was that why Red wanted to get him drunk? So he would be more willing to talk? Purple couldn't help but feel a little violated. He shook away the assumption and crossed unsteadily to where Red stood, trying to urge himself to hear him out. The past two days had been full of painful dialogue and Purple felt like he would beat Red if he drug him back to that feeling again. Red was lucky alcohol made him forgiving.

"What do you want to talk about?" He asked unenthusiastically, afraid for the answer.

Red looked even more uncomfortable than he did. "Well, first you should get dressed. They left us these but I'm pretty sure they're not going to fit." He nodded down to the bedspread.

Purple blinked. Kez had tried to find something for them to wear but it was obvious from her choices that she had come up short with any suitable options. Literally. Two women's robes sat before them almost mockingly, presumably belonging to Teem by the gaudy choice of color; one was a dull navy blue and the other was a soft candy pink. Almost immediately, the two shared a challenging glance before simultaneously reaching for the blue robe, stopping one another.

"What are you doing?" Purple slurred, hand hovering above the robe. "I call this one."

Red shot him a look. "No, it's mine. I'm _not_ wearing the pink one."

Purple huffed and tried to grab the robe, growing more irritated when Red smacked his hand away and snatched it before spinning around, concealing it behind his back. "Hey! Give it to me! I said I called it so you're breaking the rules!"

"What rules?"

"Whoever calls it gets it!"

"That's just what they tell smeets to get them to shut up and share stuff."

"No it isn't! It's a real rule! Ask anyone you know and they'll agree with me!"

Red let his towel slip to the floor, effectively silencing Purple and forcing him to turn away with a deep infantile frown. He pulled the robe over his shoulders and poked his arms through the sleeves. They were far too short for his liking and made him look gangly and awkward. Ugh.

"Looks like I win. If you want it, you'll have to pull it off of me." Red jabbed mockingly in Purple's direction, watching him grumble to himself and reluctantly grab the pink robe from the bed.

"Fine. Keep your damn robe. I look good in everything anyway." Purple growled, reluctantly taking the pink bathrobe and struggling to pull it on.

Red rolled his eyes and reached out, throwing Purple's wet towel to the side and helping him to tie the sash around his waist. He stifled a laugh when he sat down on the edge of the bed and leisurely looked his friend over.

"You look cute in pink." Red mocked, unsure if he was joking or half-serious. "It suits you."

Purple slowly sunk down next to him, eyeing Red and daring him to laugh. "If you say a word about this to anyone, I'll tell the advisory team you're afraid of Groparb and that I always have to squish them for you."

"Go ahead. They bite; everyone is scared of them." Red shuddered but couldn't contain himself, letting a tiny giggle slip, much to the dissatisfaction of his co-leader. He chuckled again and reached for his beer, leaning back against the bed with a sigh. "This is going to sound really soft of me to say, but I'm glad we're not out in the forest anymore. I missed sleeping in an actual bed."

Purple didn't move. He watched Red struggle with the cap on the bottle and hold it up without a word, half expecting Purple to be able to read his mind. On instinct, Purple took it and popped it off with ease, taking the first drink and holding it out of his reach when Red tried to grab for it. He gave him a tiny smile and Red returned it, watching him from below with a slow blink. Something struck him and his smile quickly faded, something unreadable coming over his features.

"What did you want to ask me?" Purple's voice was soft and he felt his words run together in a mixture of exhaustion and inebriation, reminding Red to keep on track.

Red sat back up and slung his legs over the edge of the bed, staring down and passively watching the light dance across the floor from above. "Can I have another drink?" He asked under his breath.

Purple didn't argue this time, giving him a small nod and passing him the bottle. He cocked his head when Red took it but didn't drink, merely tapping his fingers nervously along the outside of the glass. Purple could tell he was mulling over something important but didn't have the faintest idea of what it could possibly be. The swimming feeling in his head didn't help, so he piped back up.

"Tell me what's wrong." He said simply. "After everything that we've been through you should be comfortable enough with talking to me now. It's only us here so you better say it before we go back to the Massive."

Red finally took another swig, trying to drown out the slow creeping fear he was beginning to feel in his stomach. "I don't think there's anything wrong, necessarily," He began carefully, "but I don't really know….I guess I just…." He fought with himself, circling around what he wanted to say but never quite reaching it.

Purple watched as Red took a shallow breath and bent forward, setting the bottle gingerly on the floor before turning to him. He had trouble maintaining eye contact and blinked a few times, glancing to the side before returning and doing it again. He clicked his teeth as he thought hard about where to start again. Purple tried to be as patient as he could, leaning forward slightly to try and prompt Red to say what he wanted to say, picking up a mixed scent of shame and anxiety.

Finally, Red worked up the courage to speak once more. "Let me back up a little." He began again, deciding to take an objective approach. "We're both adults, right?"

Purple was confused, not knowing where this was going but deciding he would play along. "The last time I checked, yes."

Red nodded to himself and forced himself to keep going, his words coming out shaky but tense. "Ok. Keep that in mind but think back to when you were in the Academy." He paused, letting Purple's mind wander before continuing. "What do you remember from back then?"

"Um…math, engineering, communications-" Purple rattled off the few subjects he remembered enjoying but was abruptly cut off with a wave of Red's hand.

"No, no. I mean what do you remember about other Irkens you had class with?" Red prompted, only further confusing Purple.

Purple shrugged, beginning to feel exasperated with Red's vague point and wondering if there even was one. "I dunno, Red, that was forever ago. I don't remember who I had class with." He sighed heavily and Red swallowed, growing shakier.

"I remember this girl I used to train with." Red gave a nervous chuckle, drowning out Purple's tone. "Her name was Flar. She was really nice to everyone and I always wondered what it would be like to, um, to kiss her."

Purple rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. "Why do all of our conversations always end up with you talking about girls? I don't _care_ about the hundreds of girls you liked, Red. I thought I made that perfectly clear a long time ago."

Red ignored him, bringing his hands together in his lap and continuing like Purple wasn't even there. "Back then I was shorter and I wasn't brave enough to ask her to go on a date with me, so I never got to know what it could have been like." He stopped and looked up from the floor, meeting Purple's gaze in troubled expectation.

Suddenly, a pang of dread shot up Purple's spine like lightning, scorching him to the core. What on Irk did that mean? Where _was_ this going? His breathing quickened and he felt his body bounce between freezing cold and burning hot. This wasn't like Red at all, and Purple didn't like it.

"What are you saying?" His voice cracked unintentionally, confusion and alarm pouring off of him and only adding to the awkward weight hanging over them.

Red looked away and Purple noticed a dark color deepening across his face. "I'm saying…I-I'm saying now that I'm an adult I'm in the same situation. I'm too scared to ask but I want to know what it's like…with someone I know."

"Who?" Purple's retort came out more urgent than he was expecting, and it set Red further to the edge he was barely hanging on to.

Red opened his mouth to say something but quickly closed it, squeezing his eyes shut and gripping at the hem of his robe. He inhaled sharply and said something so fast Purple wasn't even sure he was saying words. Purple shook his head in misunderstanding and moved back a little, putting distance between them. He wanted to get up and leave but was afraid of what kind of reaction Red would have in his outlandish unstable state.

"You're starting to freak me out." Purple said slowly, perturbed by Red's disturbing behavior.

"I-I said can we…" Red's voice trailed off once more, fading to a mortified whisper.

Purple was done. He frowned and flattened his antennae, his fear replaced by a sudden burst of anger. "Quit dragging me along and just say it already!" He slammed his hand down hard on the bed and tossed Red over whatever wall he had been hiding behind.

"Fuck! Don't make me say it!" Red blurted out rapidly, scrambling to his feet. "J-just _think_ about it! How much more obvious can I get?"

Purple jumped up to meet him and threw his hands in front of him, almost falling forward and forgetting how much he'd had to drink. "What the hell is wrong with you? Why can't you just tell me what you mean?" He pleaded, desperately trying to understand where Red was taking them and feeling absolutely clueless.

"Because I can't!"

"Red!"

"Y-you really don't get it?"

"No! And you're starting to piss me off!"

"OK FINE!"

The steely sharpness of Red's tone cut into Purple like a knife and rendered him speechless. This time, it was Red who looked like he wanted to cry as he gave up, humiliated and ashamed at the severity of the question he had hanging on the tip of his tongue. Purple tightened his jaw when he realized just how much whatever this was had a hold on his friend and immediately regretted raising his voice. Red reached up and palmed at the side of his face, trying to hide the color he found there before slumping back down on the edge of the bed with a chastened groan. Purple hadn't seen him this discomfited in cycles; it took a lot to unravel Red to the point that he would allow himself to show so much identifiable emotion. Purple sighed to himself, feeling guilty that he'd made Red so uncomfortable but still nervous about the insecurity between them.

"I'm sorry." He mumbled, positioning himself close to his friend and reaching out to take him by the wrist. "I shouldn't have yelled at you."

Red let his shoulders slump forward, but he didn't push Purple away. When he spoke, he sounded defeated and tired. "I'm so confused, Pur. I don't know what I want anymore." He still refused to look at him. "Teem and I had a talk. Ever since you confessed, I haven't been able to focus on anything else and it's bothering me. A-and…" He took another deep breath and finally forced out what he wanted to say, his words like needles through Purple's spooch. "I-I want...to try…kissing you."

What? Purple's eyes widened in disbelief and he felt his grip on Red tighten. Was he really hearing what he thought he was hearing? This had to be a dream. Or was it a nightmare? Red would never suggest anything like this in a thousand cycles. Yeah…he was going to wake up in the morning and they were going to be back on the Massive like normal and everything would go back to being mundane and boring again. It was all in his head. But what if it wasn't? What if Red was just drunk? Wouldn't he regret something like that? What if he sobered up and blamed Purple for taking advantage of him? But…but…a fleeting realization came over him, followed by another bout of gut-wrenching antagonism at the terrible conception settling in his mind. He tore his hand away from Red's wrist and narrowed his eyes in hurt fury when everything finally clicked. He was right; this was a nightmare.

"Are you making _fun_ of me?" Purple accused tersely, pain from their earlier conversations flooding back in and nearly drowning him. "If this is some kind of sick joke, it's not funny!"

Red shrunk back at the unexpected accusation, throwing his hands up defensively. "N-No!" He sputtered rapidly, his words stumbling over one another. "I actually want to-"

Purple nodded sarcastically. "You actually want to what, Red? Make me feel like a freak? I can live with you being a stuck-up asshole with a power complex, but this is too far for me. I didn't confess for this." He pushed himself up and snatched a pillow angrily from the bed before spinning on his heel and stalking hotly towards the door. "You can sleep by yourself!" He shouted, hoping to have the last word. How dare Red use him like this! He wasn't here for his entertainment.

Red yelped and flew up, practically sprinting to the door and throwing himself in front of it, arms wide. "Wait, you can't leave!" He shouted gracelessly, blocking Purple's way. "I'm being serious!"

"You better move." Purple growled viciously, becoming blinded by the alcohol coursing through his system. "Don't make me hurt you!" When Red refused to budge Purple reared back without thinking, raising his free hand to land a hard strike across Red's face.

Red panicked and his sharp reflexes kicked in. He snatched Purple's hand out of the air, holding him firmly in place mid swing and glaring at him with a scowl. Purple blinked in surprise and dropped the pillow from his other hand, the two standing rigid and unmoving for several long, drawn-out seconds. Purple prepared for Red to hit him back, but the blow never came. Instead, he felt Red's grip soften but he still refused to let go, the look in his eye changing to a look of fortitude and determination. Purple's breath hitched in his throat and goosebumps prickled over his skin. Every breath he took became shallow and wavering, a searing hot wave of understanding washing over him and leaving him disoriented where he swayed. This was real.

"I'm not making fun of you." Red spoke firmly, finally letting go but still refusing to budge from the doorway. "You're stuck in my head, Purple, and I don't understand why. I have to see if I feel anything or this is going to eat me alive." He paused. "There's no logic to it and I know it's illegal, but I have to know."

All Purple could do was stare, Red's crimson gaze piercing his subconscious and driving him absolutely crazy with uncertainty. Oh, Irk. Red was serious. He was actually _serious_. The powerful, gorgeous Elite commander he had stalked for cycles wanted to kiss _him_. His iron-willed, domineering co-Tallest and half of the entire Irken Empire wanted to kiss _him_. This couldn't be real. None of this was real. But, at the same time everything took on a hyperrealism that was deafening, forcing Purple to shakily jump in and out of reality. The room felt like it was shrinking, and Purple could feel himself starting to panic, his pulse pounding painfully through his body. He'd dreamed about this for so long and ran through the scene in his mind millions of times, but this isn't how he envisioned it happening at all. He didn't want to be Red's science experiment! He wanted it to happen because Red wanted him, not because Red had to satisfy some kind of curiosity for the sake of restoring logic to his world. The buzz in the back of Purple's skull grew more intense and he stumbled forward, catching himself against he wall with his hand. This was all happening too fast and the dizziness of all the upheaval Red was throwing at him caused a sudden wave of intoxicated nausea to hit him. Oh no.

Red yelped and pressed himself to the door as Purple lurched forward and threw up at his feet without warning. "Dammit, Purple! I _knew_ you had too much to drink!" He groaned heatedly in frustration as his friend coughed violently. "I warned you that if you didn't slow down, you'd make yourself sick!"

Purple swallowed as his throat began to burn. "Woah…I honestly don't know where that came from." He spat and wiped his mouth hazily on the back of his hand. "I'm so sorry."

"Shit, it's a good thing I _didn't_ kiss you." Red grumbled in annoyance, pushing off of the door with another hefty exhale and trudging over to the corner where he'd thrown the towel. "You really need to learn to hold your liquor." He paused with a sigh. "Do you feel better at least?"

Purple nodded and took a few deep soothing breaths, swallowing again at the bad taste in his mouth. He waited a minute, feeling his body settle and return to normal. "I think so."

"Ugh! You couldn't have done this in the cleansing room?" Red scolded softly, stooping to wipe up the mess.

Purple blinked, still afraid to move and brushing off Red's disgruntled comment. "Red?" He began tentatively, feeling butterflies form in the pit of his stomach. "Do you really…want to kiss me?" The question felt so foreign on his lips, but the idea of how scandalous this was made him a little eager.

"I'm afraid to now." Red muttered from the floor, allowing himself a half-hearted chuckle. "But, yeah…I guess. Teem told me when you feel this confused it's ok to experiment with someone to clear the air." He sounded reluctant and tried to hide his underlying interest. "I think I already knew that, but I needed someone to tell me that it was alright."

Purple let go of his hold on the wall, almost falling face forward in the process. Red caught him from below with one hand, hastily standing and walking him back over to the edge of the bed. He gingerly pushed him back down and pressed the back of his hand to Purple's forehead. His hands were cool and clammy but felt nice against Purple's skin.

"You're not hot." He observed, tiny notes of relief slipping out. "We're just going to tell Teem and Kez that guy who always asks them for pills showed up and puked on their floor again. You sure you feel ok?"

Purple stifled a giggle at Red's heartwarming concern, returning to his senses and nodding. At least his buzz wasn't ruined. "I told you I'm fine. What about you? I'm starting to think you're going crazy." He paused and looked down. "The real Red would never wanna kiss me."

Red said nothing, crossing back to where he left the soiled towel and picking it up with a sneer. He quickly moved to the panel for the cleansing room, threw it open, and tossed the towel carelessly inside with a shudder of disgust. He strode back and flopped down on the bed, allowing himself to sink into the soft mattress, trying to put himself back into the conversation after the repulsive show Purple had given him. Thank Irk he hadn't scared Red away. Either he had a stomach of steel, or Red really did want this. Purple lowered himself down and turned onto his side to face his friend, admiring the childlike fear that was flooding over him once more when he remembered where they left off.

"What do you actually feel for me?" Purple whispered, propping himself up on his elbow. "You told me in the forest that you couldn't give me what I wanted, but now you want to try touching me? I don't understand what changed."

Red stared up at the ceiling and swallowed thickly. "I don't know either. I still don't think I can ever give you exactly what you want, and I don't want you to get the wrong impression, but I can't let this go without knowing what it's like. There's too many unknown feelings inside me right now and I have to get them out somehow."

Purple gave him a little, sympathetic nod, finally beginning to understand where he was coming from but remaining apprehensive. "And you want to try and get those out to see if there's any possibility that you could like me?"

"…Yes."

All of this was so backwards. Red liked women. Everyone, Purple included, was painfully aware of his sexual conquests as an officer. He was like everyone else in the Elite and used his status to get whatever, or whoever, he wanted. Sure, he'd drastically slowed down when he got older, but he was still one of the straightest individuals Purple knew. Why couldn't Red just try this with someone else instead of leading him on through the torture of never having anything come of it?

There was a long silence between the two as Purple thought, studying Red closely and watching every tiny apprehensive flicker of his eyes. He traced Red's face with his gaze, making sure he was completely serious and still holding on to the faint belief that this was somehow still all a sadistic joke. What Purple found was a muddying mix of emotion; frustration, fear, self-loathing and…curiosity. True, uninhibited curiosity.

"I've never kissed another male before either." He let the words slip out, losing himself in the few feet of painful distance separating them. "I never had the chance to."

Red gave him a soft smile, but the air of nervousness didn't let up. "I won't force you." He reassured, a strange gentleness to his words. "You're allowed to say no if you don't want me to."

"Anyone stupid enough to say no to you should be executed." Purple laughed nervously, attempting to loosen himself up, but failing terribly.

He tensed when Red timidly reached out, his fingers stopping a few millimeters away from Purple's mouth. He took a deep breath and nodded, accepting Purple's approval with an eager hesitation but unsure where to start, staring gawkily at his partner's lips. He felt like an inexperienced smeet learning about partnership for the first time. Where did his hands go? Where was it ok to touch? Thank Irk no one was here to see them. The Control Brains were millions of miles away on Judgementia but Red could still feel their hard mechanical eyes staring down the back of his neck. He could almost feel the thick regret that would overcome him during his Existence Evaluation for the social crimes he was about to commit. No…he would be ok as long as they never found out. He wouldn't let them find out for Purple's sake. But, as illegal as this all was, there was a forbidden excitement to it all that made Red's adrenaline spike and his antennae twitch. The thought of breaking the law set him on fire.

"…Can I touch you?"

Purple tried not to pull away, his pulse deafening at the question he never thought he would hear. He nodded but wasn't sure if Red saw him, breathing out an amorous response instead. "Yes."

Then, there was velvety contact. Awkward contact. Purple held his breath at the sensation of Red's cold fingers brushing against him and moving to unhurriedly trace his lips. It was soft at first, barely there and uncomfortable. Red frowned and squinted through the dark, focused on analyzing every smooth ridge his fingertips could find as a newfound experimental interest settled between them. Purple was surprisingly soft and warm, his tender skin soothing under Red's feathery touch.

"Huh. It's different than I thought it would be." Red mumbled, scooting forward for a better look. "You kind of feel like a female." He pulled back, admiring the faint dusting of tiny freckles splayed over Purple's cheeks. He'd never been close enough to notice them before.

"If you ever call me a female again, I'll shoot you into a star. What'd you _think_ I'd feel like?" Purple managed a bit of annoyance but it melted away as he shivered, feeling Red replace his fingers on his lips once more, going over them again in provocative fascination.

Red felt an unexpected weightlessness rip through him. He couldn't look away, caught in the net of Purple's bottomless, glazed eyes as he parted his lips slightly and his breathing became slow and deliberate. He could feel Purple's warm breath briefly brush against his fingertips, sending a frigid shiver up his spine. Red wanted more and he hated himself for it. Why? Why did he want this? Was he diseased? Defective? Maybe. Maybe Purple was contagious. It started as an inkling of a craving, but the longer Red felt Purple under his touch the more he wanted Purple to touch him back. This wasn't supposed to happen. The feelings surging through him weren't supposed to happen. This was only supposed to be an experiment, a mission to gather information in enemy territory. But, in the moment as his best friend breathed against him, Purple was far from Red's enemy. How far was he going to take this before it became far enough?

Purple could hardly stand it; he needed more friction. He didn't want to scare Red away, but he couldn't stand the near pulse stopping anticipation of what was to come. What _was_ to come? Without breaking his fiery gaze, he reached up and gently guided Red's hand to the side of his face, steering him enticingly along his jawline, his lean neck, his sharp collarbone and feeling his rigid fingers shy away but quickly return. His skin burned under Red's calloused hands, letting go and encouraging him to roam over the slim bone of his clavicle, itching to close the distance between them but still nervous to try. Instead he let his hand run the length of Red's arm, desperate to feel him through the plush fabric of his robe. His fingers dipped ever-so-slightly under Red's collar, grazing the tiny scars he found there and reveling in the feeling of his imperfect skin. Red stiffened under his touch and Purple frowned, withdrawing his hand.

"We can stop if you don't like it." He whispered, ready to face rejection. "You're not like my kind, and it's ok."

Red didn't let go, equally as frozen in his thoughts as he was in horrible anticipation to keep going. But, this was still wrong. For his entire life, Red had obeyed the words of the Control Brains to a fault. He was desperate and hungry to please them with his reckless actions and conquests. He'd forced himself to hurt for them and if necessary, he would die for them. He would kill and pillage and destroy for the name of the Empire. Now he was hungry to please Purple, and it bothered him. He wanted to give him everything, every nebula they drifted through and every foreign planet they bombarded. Red hadn't realized it before, but his existence wasn't for the Control Brains anymore, and it hadn't been for a long time now. From the moment he and Purple had clicked, half of Red's life had transferred into his hands and he would do anything to preserve the rare union they shared. He'd hated Purple in the beginning. He was a thorn, an obstacle that Red needed break down and cast aside and a reminder of his own instability. In a way, he still was; a one Irken army that refused to be snuffed out who constantly reminded him of his flaws…but equally appreciated them. They went around and around with each other; fighting and making up hundreds of times only to do it again the next day. There was an intimacy to it that Red didn't want to lose. Irk, what was he doing? No…no more stupid questions. He knew exactly what he was doing.

"Do you want me to sleep in the other room?" Purple breathed, trying to give Red one final chance to back out.

Red didn't take it and shook his head. "No…I want you here with me."

Without warning, he rapidly closed the distance between them, snaking his arms up and around Purple's back, gripping at his shoulder blades and pulling them flush against one another. Purple gasped when he felt himself drawn in to press against Red's chest and tried to protest, cut off when he felt the searing heat of Red's lips land firmly against his. Irresponsible, visceral, gorgeous. Neither one of them dared move, locked together in a stiff embrace and each secretly waiting for the other to pull back. It was happening. After all this time, all this heartbreak, Purple could finally submit himself fully to Red and feel him in return. The feeling was warm, hot even, and better than he had ever expected it to be. Even if this was just an experiment, even if he hadn't expected their first kiss to happen in a seedy bar in the middle of a forest, Purple still felt a deep-seated heat growing within him that drove him forward. He felt his PAK kick into overdrive from the intensity coursing between their bodies but couldn't pull away. It wasn't close enough. He needed more of Red, needed him to feel what he was feeling. Purple let his eyes drift shut and cupped Red under the jaw with his palm, a touch so ethereal it was barely felt. Purple leaned further into him, desperate for more contact. To his surprise, he felt Red sigh against him and deepen the kiss, experimentally moving his lips against Purple's and urging him silently to do the same. Curious, intrusive, exhilarating. When Red finally pulled back, Purple didn't let him, chasing him down and capturing him again and again.

"Am I answering your questions?" He spoke against Red's lips, eyes murky and full of an emotion Red couldn't pin down.

Red smiled alongside him, drunk on Purple's familiar scent. His questions? They still hung over him like a profound darkness, but there was something else running with them now. He felt it in his chest…that _something_. The cycles of unrecognized and neglected tension between them burst. It was frightening, unusual, and bruising. The threat of being found out, the forbidden novelty of touching another male, of touching Purple, his fellow Tallest, awakened things in Red he didn't know existed. And, for the first time, he could say without a doubt that he wanted to share this lucid feeling with Purple. It didn't matter if they were Tallest. It didn't matter if he was male. Purple was everything Red had never known he so desperately craved.

Red blinked when Purple closed his eyes, bringing their foreheads together and grazing his fingertips down the back of Red's neck. "You're so quiet…am I too much for the great and powerful Red to handle?" His voice was seductive and delicious in Red's antennae.

"Never."

The intensity between them exploded. Whatever was holding them back dissolved into the ether, leaving behind sweat, longing, and an impatience that couldn't seem to be satisfied. They were lost in each other, a mess of needy hands gripping shoulders and waists seeking for a closeness that they could not find. Together…they were meant to be together. Two jaded, cold individuals who were forced together by chance in an imperialistic empire; one ruled by heartless logic, the other by warmhearted emotion. Before they had been two distinct ideas, a juxtaposition of separate sides of life, but now those ideas were blurred at the lines. It was passionate, frightening, and perilous all at the same time but neither one of them cared anymore. All they wanted was each other.

Purple pulled away for air and giggled when Red immediately overtook him again. He slowed their pace, forcing Purple to be patient and eating up the sensual, breathy noises that escaped between them when they would move away. _He_ was making Purple flush. _He_ was making his body heat up. _He_ was making him squirm under his touch. Of all the time they spent alone together at night in the safety of their room or strolling the bridge with their shoulders brushing, Red never thought he would be here now; never thought he would feel so safe and venerable in Purple's arms.

Purple felt Red shift slightly, moving forward for better access and gasped when a jolt of something electric and raw ripped through his body. It didn't hurt but overstimulated his senses, shocking him out of the moment. He hastily pulled away and noticed he was panting, willing himself to calm. He blinked and narrowed his eyes suspiciously, moving his attention away from Red and trying to figure out what had stunned him, but finding nothing. What the hell _was_ that?

Red ran a cool palm behind his neck, wordlessly restoring his attention and drawing him back into the fervid desire they were sharing. Purple pushed away the thought and grinned, melting as Red returned his enthusiastic smile. He leaned back in and captured Red's mouth once more, allowing his partner to teasingly graze his ribbed tongue against him, practically begging for access. Purple smirked and warmly complied, opening his mouth just enough to let Red explore and stifling a groan at the invasive feeling of being completely overtaken. He let Red dominate him and relished in how ravenous and primordial they were becoming. It made him feel expensive and coveted, like a prize to be won. He was Red's prize.

There was another powerful shock and Purple's eyes flew open. He cried out against Red and pushed away, ripping them apart. With a grumble of dissatisfaction, he pushed up and furiously scanned the room, leaving Red confused beside him.

"What the hell _is_ that?" He huffed in frustration, glaring up at the ceiling and expecting to see something there. "Something keeps shocking me!"

Red blinked and though a moment, reaching out and running his fingers expectantly along Purple's forearm. After a few seconds a look of understanding overcame him, and he burst out in warm laughter at the perplexed look on Purple's face.

"What's so funny?" Purple tried to sound angry but came off as bewildered instead.

"We touched antennae, idiot. That's what it feels like when you start." Red explained with a chuckle. "Have you seriously never gotten that far with anyone?"

A wave of impenetrable humiliation flooded over Purple as Red continued to poke fun at him. Touched…antennae? Red had touched his antennae? He'd only dated a few females in the past, but it never felt right enough to try much with them. Of course he hadn't gotten this far. He thought Red would have known that. And…how far were they going to take this experiment? Red had approached him with the idea of _kissing_, nothing more, and it made Purple a little nervous.

"No, I haven't." Purple's cheeks stung in embarrassment, willing Red to be quiet. "I-I never had a chance to go that far." Ugh. He was ruining everything. Why did he have to feel self-conscious now?

Luckily, Red noticed the waver in his voice and his mirth faded. He pushed himself up with a frown. "Wait, you're serious? You've never done anything like this before? But I thought you dated someone in the Academy."

Purple wanted to disappear. "We only kissed." His voice was barely a mumble. "I never liked anyone enough to go any farther." It wasn't like he hadn't done things by himself, but the thought of another Irken doing them was nerve wracking.

Red grew uncomfortable, suddenly realizing that he had pushed his partner too far too quickly. "Oh…Oh, Irk, I didn't know! I'm moving too fast, aren't I?" He moved away, his own unease creeping in and trying to give Purple space. "I'm sorry, Purple. I'm so used to following cues that I thought-."

Purple cut him off. "N-No, it's ok." He squeaked out, the vulnerability in his voice felt disgusting. He swallowed and took a deep, shaky breath. "How…how far are we going, Red? Tomorrow, we'll be back on the Massive and then what?"

Red hadn't thought that far. He'd been so caught up in the unexpected warmth of Purple against him that he'd forgotten who they were. They were the Tallest and the Tallest didn't do things like this. Red felt anger pinch at his spooch and furrowed his brow. It wasn't fair. For the first time in his long life he didn't want to obey the Control Brains. Something that felt this right couldn't be wrong. _They_ were wrong. He felt himself relax at the realization of what he'd just thought, liberation overtaking him. The Control Brains were wrong.

"Right now, I don't care what the Control Brains say," he began carefully, shuddering a bit at the reality of the damming words flowing from his mouth. "I didn't think I would like this. I still don't think I like men, but I think I like…you." He paused. "Whatever happens in the morning, happens, and we'll figure it out together."

Purple blinked in surprise, trying not to let himself slip into the flood of emotion that was trying to drag him away. Red wanted him. The Irken he'd vied after for cycles was his in this moment. There was no question about it, no tiptoeing around one another anymore. Purple was wanted. And, even if this was a little scary and different, he wanted to feel more of Red.

"If you wanna stop here, I'm fine with that." Red's voice sounded unexpectedly disappointed, but resolute. "I'm not going to force you to do anything you don't want to."

"Shut up, Red." Purple leaned back in and planted a lingering kiss to the corner of Red's mouth. "I trust you. Just don't laugh if I don't know what to do."

Red smiled, his apprehensions fading as he was transported back into the sugary feeling of Purple's touch. "And you think I know what _I'm_ doing? This is my first time with…eh…the same anatomy." He blinked when he felt Purple's light palm land on his chest, forcing him to lay back down.

"You always say the wrong things." Purple followed him down, giggling at the stupid enthusiastic grin on his partner's face. "You're cute without your tooth." He teased, forcing away Red's broken smile with his lips.

Limbs entwined, breathing quickened. The sickly-sweet smell of sweat and lust clouded Purple's mind and drove him crazy. There was an urgency to the air, an intense need to dive deeper than the surface and become lost together. Purple's breath hitched and he squeezed his eyes shut when he felt Red's hot tongue on his jawline. The feeling was sudden but fleeting, tiny smirks and soft kisses peppered lazily down his neck and setting him alight with a dizzying want.

Red gently peeled away the fabric concealing Purple's shoulders, grazing his teeth against his newly exposed flesh. His head swam when he felt his partner tremble under his touch and hiss through his teeth. Had he always smelled this incredible? It awakened something deep and animalistic in Red, an intoxicating mix of bromine, alcohol, and something that was all Purple. He wanted to taste it, bathe in it, become it. Purple turned away, allowing Red more access to his narrow shoulders, whimpering when Red ran his teeth back over the sensitive nape of his neck. At the sound, Red bit down and Purple cried out at the unexpected pain, digging his claws into Red's ribcage. Red immediately pulled back, smoothing the pain away with his breath and a sloppy kiss before sinking his teeth into his partner once again. This time, despite the sting, a vulgar moan escaped between them and they both froze at the unanticipated, brazen sound.

There was a tiny giggle as Red moved back to stare at his lover. Purple's face was flush with color and he was drenched with sweat, a hand clamped over his mouth.

"Did I…Did that really come out of me?" He laughed again between his fingers. "I sound so weird."

Red narrowed his eyes and licked his lips, reaching down and tugging coyly at the sash around Purple's waist. "You sound sexy." He breathed, feeling his blood run hot. "I wanna hear more of you."

Purple preened under the compliment, his confidence spiking. Slowly his hands crept up, stopping Red from pulling the fabric away and earning a confused blink in return. "Did I say you could do that?" His voice was firm but bewitching, brushing Red back and pushing up.

Red frowned and tried to follow him. "Where are you go-"

Purple shushed him with a finger to his lips, giving him a long slow blink. Red had taken the lead long enough. It was his turn now. Without warning he forced Red down with a reckless shove to the chest, knocking the air out of him and straddling his hips. He propped himself up on his knees, keeping a frustrating distance between them and depriving Red of the friction he desperately needed.

Purple bit his lip and ran a teasing finger down the front of Red's robe, tugging at his lapel and becoming painfully aware of the fervent heat pooling between his thighs. "You look perfect beneath me." He rasped, making quick work of Red's sash and smoothing the velvety fabric leisurely from his form, drinking him in. "I think you belong there."

Red shivered as the cool air licked at his skin, replaced by the irresistible dig of Purple's claws curling around his throat. Wait…he was choking! For a split second, he panicked and flew up to grab furiously at Purple's grip before realizing he could still breathe. He took a deep breath of relief and tried to move, finding himself immobilized beneath the sultry domination of his partner.

Purple chuckled forebodingly, squeezing slightly and watching Red flinch with devouring, hungry eyes. "Calm down and be good for me." He instructed, moving his hands away and trailing down Red's imperfect skin, memorizing every dip and scar. "I'm in charge. Not you."

Red's mind went blank when he felt Purple's hands brush down his stomach, tracing each rib and muscle and dipping dangerously low with merciless, taunting touches. He'd seen Purple mercilessly stomp on others when they defied him, but Red had never truly felt the full extent of what he was capable of until now. He groaned and unconsciously arched into Purple's hot touch, desperate for him to move a little lower and growing exasperated when he didn't. Purple giggled, pulling his fingers back and shaking his head at the sight of such a powerful leader and ferocious warrior coming undone under him. Red wasn't satisfied and Purple knew that, letting the intense pressure forming in Red's abdomen swell to dangerous levels. The loss of control, the humiliation of being pinned by his equal made Red feel insignificant and powerless. Part of him wanted to flip Purple and fight, to force him to take the pain he deserved, but part of him wanted to see how all of this would play out. There was something unbelievably erotic about seeing someone so tall hovering above him, palming and exploring every inch of his skin like he was a toy. In the moment, that's what he was; a plaything for one of the most influential beings in their known universe, the very idea making Red squirm.

"Tell me how you want me." Purple's whisper cut through the darkness, deprived and feral. He too was panting softly, growing impatient to be discovered and folding under Red's powerful crimson stare. "Now."

Red continued to dissect Purple with his torrid gaze, deliberately picking him apart until he was shaking and silently begging Red to consume him. He felt Purple jolt when his hands found their way to his thighs, kneading at the soft flesh he found there and loving the breathy moans that dripped from his lips. Gotcha. Purple's body was perfect and untainted…beautiful actually. There were no scars or pits, only a continuous expanse of gorgeous milky skin that had Red's mouth watering.

"Strip for me." Red ordered suggestively. He'd seen Purple nude thousands of times before and never batted an eye. But now…now he was tempting; a luscious present to be carefully unwrapped and savored on the tip of Red's tongue.

"Yes…Commander."

The sound of his pet name made Red disintegrate, a pang of electric pleasure ripping through him. He could feel something moving within him, threatening to escape if Purple kept up his coy onslaught. Purple didn't waste any time, hurriedly shucking his robe and cheekily tossing it over the side of the bed with a grin. Nothing was left to Red's imagination as instinct overcame him once more, driving him to feel closer. He gripped at Purple's hips and yanked him down, the unexpected wetness against him fogging his mind and almost causing him to spill over the edge.

"Say it again."

Purple leaned forward, forcing their mouths together in a heated display of pure longing. "Say what?" He mused between kisses. "_Commander_?"

Oh Irk. Red nearly lost it. The name oozed between them and rang in Red's antennae, almost blinding him to everything but the shameless, sexy Irken pressed against him. Without thinking, he flicked his antennae forward, ghosting Purple's and feeling him lurch at the sudden exchange of viscous, racy emotion. He didn't pull back this time, holding fast and burying his face in the crook of Red's neck with a sharp moan. Red held him tight, running his fingers along the sensitive seam of his PAK and humming against his cheek as the familiar invasive feeling overtook them both. It was indescribable. It burned, buzzed, and ripped its way to Purple's core, stripping back hundreds of cycles of emotional masks he'd put up and digging deeper into the very essence of who he was. He could feel Red's psyche penetrating him, a flood of memories binding them firmly together as they shook. Each second pushed Purple further down into Red's past, unfolding unseen wounds and powerful elation in rapid succession. War. Bloodthirst. Smoke. Gunfire. Phantom screaming faded in and out of the room and Purple fought to thrust it back, feeling himself slip deeper still, pulled on by some unseen force. Drugs. Depression. Resentment. Loneliness. Emotions and cravings that hid just beneath the bitter surface, drawing tears from Purple's eyes as he choked on them, overcome by the sheer anguish Red kept bottled up inside. Even so, he forced himself to travel deeper down the winding staircase that was Red's mind, peeking into doors and living through his eyes as he traveled rapidly back in time. Red's prideful first flight as commander of his own fleet. His exciting promotion to the Elite. His time as a young student in the Academy studying battle strategy. His hatching in the cold void of the Smeetery. Finally, there was a break as Purple crested over the hill of whatever goal he was chasing after, snatching it and feeling it unfold in his hands. Peace fell over his battered mind as he sighed against his lover, an unexpected rush massaging in gentle waves through his body. It was bright and profound, the very center of what drove Red to keep going every day of his existence. Another tear rolled down Purple's cheek as he realized what that center was. He saw himself reflected in Red's thoughts, staring into his own violet eyes, a shining beacon of happiness that Red lived and would die for. Childlike wonder. Passion. Gentleness. Love. All the things Red felt for him but could never say. Purple couldn't contain himself as a sob conquered him, burying himself deeper into Red's shoulder. He couldn't believe what he was seeing, flooded with memories of the two of them together. All of their arguments, all the paperwork they had done together, all their playful shoving. The simple insignificant moments were what Red seemed to cherish the most. Red loved him at his deepest level, and Purple had never known. Even if it wasn't initially a romantic love, it was still staggering and unconditional, everything Purple had craved but never knew was there all along.

Red quickly withdrew his antennae when he felt Purple's hot tears pooling against his skin. He squeezed his eyes shut and shushed him softly, willing him to calm and waiting patiently for the burning sensation in his antennae to subside.

Purple sniffed and pushed himself up, locking eyes with Red and searching them for the intense emotions that had shattered his world. "Y-you love me?" He breathed in guttural disbelief, his voice shaking with residual doubt but feeling it quickly fade when Red gave him a faint smile.

"I think I always have in some way. You're my world, Pur, and I'm lucky you put up with me." He said under his breath, bringing their foreheads tenderly together. "But don't tell anyone. I don't want to come back to the entire bridge thinking I'm soft."

Purple felt a sudden chuckle break through his shock at Red's lighthearted tone, a wide grin spreading across his face as he cried. For the first time in his life, he felt truly complete. He felt wanted…important. Red had fixed him, pulled together his broken halves and mended them with his strong hands and even stronger mind. Together…they were meant to be together.

Red brushed a thumb delicately over Purple's cheeks, wiping away the salty tears he found there. Only Purple was allowed to see this side of him, to see him this venerable and naked. Only he could break down Red's harsh outer shell. Only he could touch him. Suddenly, the atmosphere changed. There were no more questions, no more doubts. Red finally understood everything he was feeling. He wasn't Purple's kind. He didn't want him because he was male; he wanted him because he was _himself_. He would want Purple if he was female, if he was Vortian, if he was short, or still a mechanic. This was no longer an experiment but an act of unbridled devotion. Thirst and desire crept back in, reignited by the wholeness that now radiated in them like two stars in the same constellation.

"Red," Purple mouthed against him, drawing the words out against his flesh, "I want you."

Red wrapped his arms around Purple's waist, pushing him back and gently lowering him down onto the bed, entwining their fingers and laying on top of him. He went to press a kiss to his lips but missed, lightly grazing his jaw instead.

"Tell me where, Pur." Red already knew the answer, but he wanted to hear it. He wanted to hear a wholehearted, enthusiastic, yes.

Purple watched him, eyes glazed and heavy with lust. "You know where, asshole." He bit lovingly, wrapping his legs around Red's hips and locking him in place. His hands were back on Red's neck, groping and squeezing just enough to shatter his sense of control and loving every second of it.

The situation escalated quickly. Red struggled to take a breath, growing lightheaded as Purple asserted his dominance once more, reminding Red that even if he was under him, he most definitely wasn't passive. Red was his toy. Purple was careful but sadistic, enjoying how easily he could destroy Red's formidable persona with only a little pressure. There was so much trust between them and Red shuddered as Purple tightened around his jugular, grinning deviously at the pounding of his pulse beneath his palms. Purple could murder him right here and walk away, the thrill of danger clouding Red's better judgement. It reminded him who the real boss was. Who knew being suffocated could feel this…incredible? Red coughed and groaned into Purple's firm grip on his airway, feeling himself finally unfurl and slip free against his partner's hot slit.

Purple let out a breathy moan at the sudden heat between his legs. "Fuck, Red." He swallowed thickly and relaxed his hold, feeling a wave of pleasure course through him, his PAK alerting him to his rising body temperature. "I always knew you'd like to be choked."

"Oh really?" Red cleared his throat and chuckled, grinning down and drinking in the gorgeous deep blush staining Purple's cheeks and chest. Absolutely stunning. "It sounds like you've thought about this a lot."

Purple giggled and lightly bit his tongue, running over his teeth alluringly. "Maybe I have. A tall, powerful Irken like you can't have all the glory of the Empire. You need to be put in your place sometimes."

His voice vibrated up Red's antennae, making him twitch and thaw at the sweltering sound. He couldn't think anymore. Purple was dismantling him like the thousands of battleships he'd torn apart in the past, rewiring him and bending him to his delicious, dubious will.

"And where exactly is my place?"

There was a long pause as Purple massaged over Red's skin, running a warm hand up over his mouth and down his chin.

"Inside me."

Red took a sharp inhale when Purple lazily drug his fingertips down his throat before removing them completely. Instead he reached between them, light fingertips tracing his twitching length, enjoying the feeling of his tip slipping through his fingers. The tiny, rigid noises Purple drew from Red's mouth only fueled him to go further. Red jolted when Purple squeezed, momentarily letting go before alternating hands and capturing him again. His pace was agonizingly slow, holding Red in his cruel grip and refusing to break eye contact with every touch. Every time Red felt himself grow dangerously close to the edge, Purple would let go and replace his hands around his neck, forcing the air out of him and bending his body to his wishes. The dizzying mix of deprivation and pleasure was unbearable and overstimulating, neither touch pushing Red past the brink he was so desperately chasing.

"Look at you, Red, all strung out." Purple hummed with a naive ruthlessness. "But I've barely done anything yet."

Red growled out his frustration. Time to retaliate. He rolled forward, hearing Purple yelp in surprise at the sudden friction. Red closed what little distance was between them, cutting off another loud moan as he smashed his mouth against Purple's, feeling the sound invade him and mix with his own. Purple pushed away and bit his lip when he felt himself break free as well, grinding against his partner and disappearing into the new, strange feeling. Purple had initially resented Red for his past sexual exploits but now he was beginning to appreciate them. Even if he was still a little confused, Red's experienced touch was confident and Irk shattering. Purple squeezed again and was met with force, Red bearing down and forcing his legs further apart.

The feeling of another male pressed to his skin was bizarre. Red clenched his teeth and tried to wrap his mind around the intense, slick heat curling against his stomach. It took every ounce of self-control he could muster not to sink himself into his partner and take him fully. He wanted to draw out the suspense, wanted to make Purple fall apart under him. He hesitated, unsure of what to do and where to put his hands on a body so similar to his own. Purple must have noticed, taking Red's hand as he sluggishly stroked him. He brought Red's fingers to his mouth and opened, biting down on his knuckles mischievously and running his warm tongue over him.

"Holy shit, Purple." Red groaned, the combination of his hot, sopping mouth and his palm between his legs causing his PAK to spark. For someone apparently so inexperienced, he was great at giving Red exactly what he needed. Purple always knew what he wanted.

Purple hummed around his fingers and quickly pulled him back, hoping Red would get the point and giving him a long slow blink. Damn, he was so hot. Red immediately caught on and brought his slick fingers down, teasing at his partner's entrance, pushing lightly but hesitating.

"Are you sure?" He asked, leaning back down to steal a hasty kiss before pulling back again.

For once, Purple was speechless and lost completely in the moment, only able to manage a nod before gasping sharply at the feeling of Red slowly pushing into him. He couldn't focus, letting go of Red completely and clamping a hand over his mouth to mask whatever strange sounds came pouring out of him. Purple had done this by himself in the past but the feeling of Red's digits curling inside him, exploring and delving deep, felt infinitely better than he had ever fantasized. A sudden pang of nervousness hit him when he truly came to terms with what was happening. They were becoming mates. Red had courted and fawned over him, danced with his lips and body, and now he was preparing him. Oh shit. This was happening faster than he expected!

"W-Wait!" Purple suddenly cried out.

Red froze but didn't withdraw his fingers, keeping a firm hold in his lover's body and making him pant. "What's wrong? Do you want me to stop?" He asked slowly, unsure.

"We're mating." Purple blurted out gracelessly, loosing his eloquence as his voice cracked. "Is that what you really want?"

Red gave a sigh of exasperation and groaned. "No, Pur. I'm fingering you because I was bored." He replied sarcastically. "Do you really think after everything we've done that I don't want to do this?"

Purple gave a small shrug under his partner, blinking when he felt Red's loving touch brush over the stalk of his antennae.

"You idiot. I like you. Not because you're male or because you're Tallest." Red continued, his tone hushed and soothing. "I like you because you're…_you_. Stupid jokes, stupid voice, stupid insecurities…you're the whole stupid package."

Purple felt his doubts fade. A tiny smile peaked on his face. "Ok…but…" he paused as another question floated into his mind. "It won't hurt will it?"

Red thought back to his female partners, quickly running through their reactions in his mind. "Maybe at first," he began tentatively, "but we can take it slow. I promise it'll feel good and if it doesn't we'll stop."

"…Ok."

Red could practically feel the sweat pouring off of himself as he continued. Purple felt surprisingly similar to the women he had touched in the past, searing hot and tight around his fingers. Red watched his partner's body closely as he experimented, prodding here and there and carefully observing every muffled sound, every gentle curve of his spine. Purple was reduced to a moaning writhing mess under him, whatever inhibitions he'd been hanging on to snuffed out like a light and Red was eating it up like candy. He clamped a hand back over his mouth, trying to keep quiet when something banged against the outside wall of the bar a few doors over. When had his best friend become such a delectable fanatic?

"Does it feel good?" Red purred, feeling Purple push against him, trying to force him deeper. He reached up and moved Purple's hand from his mouth, immediately rewarded with a loud, unashamed moan.

"Oh, Irk, yes…" Purple sounded urgent and out of breath. "Please, I wanna feel you…"

Red blinked in surprise at how willing and primal Purple's voice had become. "A-Are you sure you're ready?" He stuttered, taken aback by the sudden character change.

"I'm not asking you, I'm _telling_ you." Purple ordered, forcing himself hard against Red's fingers but still not finding the touch he needed to satisfy the hot coil of pleasure winding its way inside him. He gasped when Red nudged something that made him see stars.

Red swallowed thickly and nodded, his pulse quickening at the sight of his co-Tallest so desperate and greedy for his touch. This was different than the dozens of encounters Red had in the past; this was raw and full of boundless admiration. He wanted to make Purple feel things he'd never felt, things only Red was allowed to give to him. Purple was his. Only his. No one else was allowed to see him like this, splayed and mewling, laid out like a feast for Red's blown out, power-hungry senses. He was gorgeous and fanatical, each filthy, obscene echo of Purple's voice and urgent movement of his hands to draw them closer only making Red throb above him. He slowly pulled his fingers away and shifted, lining himself up with his partner before pushing forward ever so slowly. Purple fell apart. Agonizing, invasive, gratifying. He hissed as a sudden pain ripped through him, tensing and clenching his teeth at the strange feeling. He forgot to breathe as he scrambled to dig his claws into Red's back, taking hold onto any bit of flesh he could find. Bizarre, foreign, satisfying; nothing like Purple had imagined mating to be. Red tried to go slow, running an unsteady palm soothingly over his lover's stomach and waiting for his tiny nods and squeaks of approval before inching forward again. He felt like he was melting, bombarded at all angles by Purple's blistering heat squeezing around him. He trembled at the mind-blowing feeling, his eyes rolling back in his skull as he squeezed them shut and lost himself in everything that Purple was. Red was already so close to the edge, taking a slow, shaky breath to try and keep himself grounded. Not yet.

It was invasive and bruising, and Purple clung to Red like he would slip through his fingers and fall away. He felt his partner move and squirm inside him and sighed into the scorching pleasure building in his abdomen. Purple let his head roll to the side when Red gave a tentative thrust, feeling every inch filling him and forcing him open. Purple had dreamed of what Red could do to him, of what he could do to Red. He wasn't disappointed. The pain didn't last long, as Red had promised, quickly evaporating into a dull ache laced with something that he hadn't quite felt before. He was completely connected to Red; they were the same. The history between them had twisted and wound its way so deep into them both that they could never go back. Half of Purple feared Red for what he was, every cell in his body ablaze and screaming at him to walk away and not look back. Red's violence, his awful toxicity would overtake Purple someday, dragging him down into the pit of depression and fear he couldn't escape from. It followed him like the silent threat of death, tainting and ruining everything pure it touched with darkness. Purple smirked to himself. He wasn't afraid of the dark. Maybe, just maybe, he wanted to be ruined too. His other half wanted all of Red's suffering, wanted to heal and nurture him with his gentle words and soft kisses. He wanted them to laugh together, to sleep together, and rule together. Together…they were meant to be together; the same tired phrase ringing out like their own personal song. Purple loved Red. He would walk through every fire that scorched Red's past and wade through every monsoon that would be their future together if it meant they would never be apart. Purple would kill for him, die for him, but most importantly, _live_ for him.

He relaxed when Red set a steady, gentle rhythm, branding him with those eyes he'd come to love all those cycles ago. Purple could feel all of him, running his hands up his scarred back and down again as he moved. There was no going back now. He and Red were officially criminals. They had broken the social rules of the very society they were trying to guide towards a better, more obedient future. Purple didn't care. All he could think of was the feeling of Red curling and twisting deep inside him as they danced in tandem. He was a sputtering mess, moaning out sweet unintelligible nothings and chanting Red's name like a wicked mantra. He chased tiny drops of ecstasy hanging in the air, tainting the room with the honeyed, salacious smell of sex but never quite reaching what he clawed for. The excruciating feeling had gone stagnant, hovering right at the edge but unable to peak. Red was moving too slow, too cautiously. Purple needed more.

"Harder…" He wheezed, pleading as he dug into the bedspread beneath him.

Red fought to pay attention, lost in keeping himself from coming unglued. "I-I don't wanna break you."

Purple was growing impatient. Of all the times Red tried to control him, _now_ he was too scared? "I-I'm not made of glass, Red." He whined. "I've waited too long for this to happen, so don't you dare disappoint me! I-I wanna be fucked by the Red I've heard stories about."

That was the end of it. Red forced his way into his partner, feeling Purple cry out and arch uncontrollably against him at the sudden ferocity. He wrapped his arms frantically around Purple's waist and squeezed him tight, sinking his teeth back into the sensitive flesh of his shoulder when he felt Purple tighten around him. Purple scrambled to grab something, _anything_, as Red took him, pulling him closer and closer to the edge. Then, it happened. All at once he felt weightless, nothing and everything closing in on him at the same time before the crash sent him rocketing straight back into Red's powerful grip. Purple threw his head back and Red forced their lips together, silencing him before he could scream. He moaned into Red's mouth as wave after wave of ecstasy tore through him, locking Red firmly in place as he spasmed and released between them. Red followed close behind, warmth pooling in the pit of Purple's stomach as he filled him. Then…nothing.

Purple felt ethereal. He was cast adrift, Red's comforting body on his the only thing keeping him from floating away into the atmosphere. Every muscle in Purple's body relaxed with a soft exhale, a profound sense of total, unwavering harmony warming him down to his toes then gliding away to a chill. Red slumped against him, placing an uncoordinated, bleary kiss to his cheek before completely burying his face in Purple's neck to breathe against his skin. Purple flinched when he felt Red draw back, leaving him feeling empty and exposed, but surprisingly satisfied. Purple did the same, shuddering when he curled back inside himself and sighing affectionately against Red's cheek, completely drained and exhausted from the unexpected turn the night had thrown them down. How had they ended up here? Neither of them said a word for a long while, locked tightly together to preserve the tiny ripples of residual pleasure that rebounded between them. When they faded away, Purple smiled gently to himself and lightly traced the hundreds of tiny scars dotting Red's back, a beautiful landscape to blissfully lose himself in. Red hated them, but Purple thought they were charming. He felt Red snicker against him and giggled when he finally, and with great effort, pushed up and flopped on his back to Purple's side, admiring the skylight above them with foggy unfocused eyes. He gave a long, low exhale, reality blurred to the much-needed high Purple had injected into his bloodstream. He blinked when colors ran together, a bleeding world for a bleeding heart.

Purple inched over, still craving the feeling of Red's touch and grinning when Red welcomed him in, scooping him up by the waist and pressing a lingering kiss to his forehead. Purple sighed and nuzzled into Red's shoulder, finally deciding to break the gooey silence cascading down the walls around them.

"Wow…" He breathed, trying to find something eloquent to say but coming up short. "That was…"

"…Amazing." Red finished his sentence under his breath, leisurely strolling back into reality from wherever he'd been roaming. "You're amazing."

Purple could hear Red's pulse in his antennae, strong and soothing like his own personal lullaby. "I'm happy we did it." He closed his eyes when he felt Red mindlessly tracing his ribs. "Red?"

Red was slowly nodding off, startling a bit at his name and shifting to his side to get more comfortable. He bumped the transmitter with his hand and mumbled something, brushing it off the bed with a thunk.

Purple swallowed, hesitating. His was finally coming off of his buzz, the weight of the world overcoming him once more and reminding him of what awaited them in the morning. "What are we going to do now? Things won't be the same between us."

Red's antennae twitched, drawing him back in to the conversation. Why did Purple have to bring that up now? Why couldn't he just enjoy the feeling of being in the here and now? Red's throat was dry but he couldn't bring himself to get up and find something to drink. He knew Purple was right. Things were never the same.

"We can't tell anyone." Red's voice was desolate. Purple didn't like it. "They'll deactivate us."

Red's words threaded through Purple's mind, replanting a seed of emptiness in him. "I felt everything you feel for me. I saw it. I'm more than an experiment for you to play with." He sounded hurt, terrified for the future. "If you say this was all for nothing you'd be lying."

Red pulled back to look his partner in the eye. "What the hell? Of course it wasn't nothing." He couldn't believe Purple was still torturing himself with stupid little lies. "When we started I wasn't sure what I felt but now…now I know. I like you."

"And I _love_ you."

There it was again. Desperation. Fear. Two conditioned emotions beat into Purple so long ago by a broken system trying to extinguish the unique light that he was. It hurt Red to see him this way, to see him so untrustworthy even after everything they'd just done. He had to put a stop to this nonsense and reel him in for good. Through the whole encounter, there had been a single question gnawing at the back of Red's thoughts. He was going to wait until they woke up in the morning to ask, but there was no way Purple would stop beating himself up until he knew what Red really wanted. He brought his hands to Purple's cheeks, cupping him tenderly in his grasp and drawing him forward to look him directly in the eye. He didn't just want Purple to hear what he had to say, he wanted him to listen.

"Red, you're squishing-"

"When we get back to the Massive, do you want to push our beds together?"

A tiny jolt of shock rocketed Purple out of his growing depression. The beginning of a spark peaked back in his amethyst eyes at Red's suggestion and the corners of his mouth twitched. It took everything for him to breathe out a response through his disbelief. "You want that?"

Red rolled his eyes and grinned. "Duh. I didn't sleep with you to have sex with you. I did it because I want to sleep next to you every night. Last time I checked, that's what couples do."

Red nearly shot out of the bed in terror when Purple screeched, latching on to him and squeezing him into a spine crunching hug. "You and I? A couple? We're a couple!" He yelled, his voice reverberating through the walls. He couldn't contain himself, burying his face in Red's chest as he broke into a fit of giddy laughter. He pulled back, beaming and nearly bursting at the seams with happiness. "Does this mean I get to call you my boyfriend?"

Ugh. Red flattened his antennae at the word. He'd always hated it when his partners called him their boyfriend. It was cheesy and sentimental, two things he tried to shy away from.

"Keep your voice down." Red mumbled under his breath.

Purple didn't listen, his voice only growing in intensity. "Can I call you other things too?"

Red felt his face flush at the barrage of questions. "No." He retorted, embarrassed. "Just call me Red like normal. You're gonna make me regret asking."

"Nope! You're not allowed to back out now! You're all mine!" Purple giggled.

Red couldn't help but smile a little at Purple's enthusiasm. He opened his mouth to say something but was silenced by a loud thud at the adjacent wall, followed by the call of an irritated, muffled voice.

"Forgive me my Tallest, but there are other couples here besides you who are trying to recharge!" There was a quick pause. "Congrats on the new boyfriend, Tallest Purple! He's a total piece of shit so good luck!"

It was Teem. Red buried his face in his pillow with a mortified groan, sinking into himself. How thin were the walls? Oh, Irk, how much did they hear?!

"Thank you, I already know!" Purple called back, earning a muted laugh from Kez through the wall and a frantic hand over his mouth from Red.

Red was absolutely humiliated, forcing Purple down hard into the bed and glaring over him. "Shut. Up. Do you actually have a death wish?" He hissed dangerously. Was no one ever on his side?

Purple pried Red from his mouth and chuckled. "Sorry, I'm just excited. This is kind of a dream come true for me." He pulled Red back into his arms and sighed, winding himself down. He felt safe here. Safe against Red's skin. "Red?"

"Mm?"

"I love you."

"…go to sleep."

* * *

_**The deep, cold reaches of space in an equally cold and unfriendly location**_

Prisoner 432 stood rigid, terrified to move as his captor circled ominously around him. "I'm sorry, sir. We tried, we really did! They were more resourceful than we were anticipating."

Claws drummed meticulously over a reader, wide eyes searing over lines of code. "You and that incompetent rebel Urb Yen were supposed to get them to sign it! Things will be much more difficult now. I'm going to have to resort to using my own resources."

Prisoner 432 looked down at his feet, clenching his jaw and bracing for the inevitable. "Y-Yes, sir! I-I'm sorry, sir! It won't happen again! I'll try-"

An eager finger tracing a trigger, the hum of hot plasma. Another life snuffed out.

"You should have tried harder."

* * *

So, this chapter took a while to write. I wrote it completely three times and scrapped it twice. I had a sex scene planned a few chapters in the future, but it felt wrong and awkward to leave this chapter where I originally intended, so here it is. I also didn't want it to be pointless, you know? It just felt right to put it here. It kinda wrote itself I guess. Thanks for reading, kids, and drop a review if you'd like. Peace out!


	10. The Return of Lard Nar

Hello lovelies! It's Charlotte again! _**WE HAVE BEAUTIFUL FANART!**_ A lovely amazing artist on Instagram named **hymntanra** sent me a link to a piece they did for chapter 9 and I wanted to give a shout out, because I'm just so in love with it! Link provided, and you should follow them because all of their art is so fly! This has also caused our page views to literally fly through the roof and we went from averaging about 120 daily to near _500_! Thank you, love, you seriously ROCK! p/B2XzE8xDaub/ (The first half of the url is at www. Instagram . com so be sure to add that first. I am not allowed to because fanfiction won't let me! If we are struggling with the link, be sure to check out the artist's name or PM me directly for help 3)

Finally, I wanted to say thank you to **HabitMcRabbit**, **magister989**, **Calavaster, **and** ZeroNumbers** for joining the follow family! Also thank you to **Calavaster, ZeroNumbers, **and** Shal96** for favoriting! Also shout out to the insane influx of viewers from Russia! Love you babies and thanks for so many views!

A tiny, horned baby with goggles will be showing back up this chapter and I'm so excited. **Chapter rated T for smoking, mild violence, and mild adult themes.**

* * *

It was cold. Too cold. Purple groaned and curled into himself as he began to shiver, groggily seeking any warmth he could find in the pale morning light. He blindly reached behind him, his fingertips grazing something equally cold and metallic; Red's PAK. He was so far away, practically hanging off the edge of the bed in his sleep, peaceful and unmoving.

Purple listlessly rolled over, still half asleep and hazy. "Red…?" He mumbled lethargically, hoping to feel his partner's arms curl around him in response.

When they didn't come, Purple mumbled something crossly to himself and slowly opened his eyes, his blurry vision taking its time to readjust to the world around him. Red had turned his back to him in his sleep and was snoring softly into his pillow, completely still besides the gentle rise and fall of his chest. How could he sleep in a place like this? Purple definitely hadn't slept as well as his partner was. He'd dreamt terrible nightmares of Red's torture and the blinding light of Prisoner 432's headlamp. He was haunted by Urb Yen and her horrifying voice, and had watched her suffer underneath him over and over as her cackle reverberated in his head. He'd relived the searing heat of the crash, heard the crunching of metal colliding with the forest floor like it was tin, and felt the bloody, deadweight body of Red in his arms as he heaved him from the burning wreckage. Even now he felt himself break out in a cold sweat at the thought of returning to those abysmal events. Purple had hoped the awful flashbacks would go away once he slept the day off, but he knew in the back of his mind they never would. He was as damaged as his partner now, forced to walk hand in hand with Red through the battlefields of their fractured minds, and felt a new but burdensome sense of sympathy for him. Red had been patient and understanding while Purple tossed and turned, showing a surprising compassion that Purple had never seen from him. He wouldn't question or grumble like he usually did, awakening when Purple would jolt or accidentally kick him and wrapping him back up in his strong, safe hold before drifting off again. It was soothing and pushed away Purple's fears every time they arose, reminding him that he was alive and protected by the one Irken he cared for most, even if he felt dead to the world. The sounds of the bar around them hadn't helped. The vulgar music had continued its constant boisterous pace throughout the night and a loud fight had broken out at one point, the Naphrus 8 authorities storming in and apprehending a few screaming troublemakers who threw angry slurs and bottles back at them. Thank Irk they didn't know their Tallest were here in a place like this. How would they begin to explain something like that?

Purple took a deep breath, feeling it quickly turn into a fat yawn as he stretched and tried to blink the remaining exhaustion from his vision. The first inkling of pastel magenta light creeped in through the skylight and he could see the beautiful violet sky outside, dancing with the twinkling light of Irk's ring. It was clear and crisp, and a few hovering four-winged creatures landed on the windowpane before zipping off after one another. Purple felt the bed move and noticed Red shift sluggishly, rolling over onto his side to face him. Purple couldn't help the smile beginning to peak on his face. He looked absolutely hilarious. Red's mouth hung open against the fabric of the pillow he was drooling on, his snoring picking up in intensity as he dreamed. Nasty. Purple couldn't believe he'd kissed a face like that, but found himself still wanting to do it all over again. He held back a chuckle and carefully reached out, brushing the back of his hand delicately over Red's cheek. He still couldn't believe it. After all this time, Red was his and he was Red's. It was surreal, a real-life daydream that he never wanted to wake up from.

Purple thought pleasant nonsense to himself, running over the events of the previous night longingly. He'd never had a boyfriend before. Was he even allowed to use such an infantile word at his age? It felt wrong in his mouth, like he wanted to relish in the connotation the word held, but also feeling like it showed how old he really was. Ugh. Purple enjoyed the freedom that came with adulthood but hated the sense of responsibility he was expected to have. It was full of obligations and embittered talks about back aches and other bodily pains. Sometimes all he wanted to do was eat ice cream and watch movies, but there was always something hanging out in the distance that needed to be done. He was a little over 350 now and supposed to be peaking in the prime of his life with everything settled and in place, but he still felt like he was walking a tightrope with where he wanted to go in life. An Irken his age should have already found a life partner, not be stumbling around worrying about how to please his new boyfriend. Purple felt like he was late to the dating game, looking back on his time in the Academy when everyone was young and hyped up on hormones. He hadn't had the chance to ever explore this side of life until now but realized why everyone back then was so concerned with the feeling. Oh well. If he was late, so was Red. Even while he was highly coveted, Red had chosen to forego finding a life partner in order to focus on protecting Tallest Spork, so he said, but Purple was sure it was only because he had a hard time being emotionally venerable with others. Purple smiled to himself once more. He felt special that a cynical, ireful Irken like Red would even bat an eye in his direction, let alone court him. Thank Irk Spork had gotten in the way and kept Red from settling down, giving Purple a chance to claim him as his own without any threat of competition. Besides, they'd already broken enough social customs in a few hours to be deactivated, so why worry about another one as trivial as age and courtship?

At the feeling of Purple's balmy skin against his, Red unconsciously scrunched up his face with a hot mutter and rolled back over, sprawling out on his stomach across the bed with a huff.

Purple rolled his eyes when Red went limp once more. "Fuck you too." He mumbled affectionately under his breath, giving another lingering stretch before pushing up and slinging his feet over the edge of the bed. He was wide awake and there was no point in trying to go back to sleep now; he would only lay down and stare at the ceiling anyway and he shuddered at the thought of a certain Vortian menace popping back into his head and damaging his calm. No thank you. He cracked his neck, wincing at how stiff and sore he still felt, before standing with a muted sigh.

He took a step and blinked when he brushed something hard on the freezing floor, looking down and immediately realizing he'd forgotten something of dire importance. The transmitter! They needed to call the Armada! Any remaining traces of groggy peace were torn from Purple's mind as he bent down and scooped up the device, clicking it on and letting the display warm up with a happy greeting. He stared at it for a moment, running over the smooth screen with his hands. They had to go back to the Massive. He swallowed and glanced behind him to where Red lay, a deep-set frown eating away at him at the realization of what that meant for their new relationship. When they went back, they would have to hide. Purple had already hidden his whole life, so why, now that he had everything he wanted, did he have to remain hidden? There would be no playful shoving, no soft hand holding, and no amorous glances unless they were locked away and out of sight of the public's prying, judgmental eyes. Any form of open affection, even a miniscule hint of a partnership between the two of them, would end up in the media and destroy them both from the inside out. The Control Brains would also be back on their case, wanting reports and forcing them to go through the routine PAK and medical evaluations every half-cycle to ensure they were still fit enough to lead the Empire. There would be no more privacy…no more open, unrestricted intimacy like he and Red could share here in Naphrus. Here they could be whatever they wanted without judgement or fear of arrest. Maybe…maybe they could retire here someday and find a nice little scenic place on the edge of the forest. Did they even have the privilege of retirement as Tallest? Purple felt his breath hitch as charming, tranquil images of mundane life away from the Armada reeled through his mind. Red could help him paint their new home and they could downsize to a two-seater Spittle Runner. Maybe they could take walks together and find a favorite secluded spot in the town square to eat and talk about whatever it was that civilians talked about. They could have neighbors like everyone else on the planet's surface and only travel into the cosmos on their terms, free to explore the universe and its beauty without the heavy responsibilities of the Empire sucking the life from them. Oh! Teem and Kez lived here too! It would be so fun to get to know them as a couple; he and Red could host them sometimes for dinner and casual parties. Hm…he would have to learn how to cook, wouldn't he? Red sure as hell wouldn't want to and he'd probably burn everything anyway. It was so cheesy and ridiculous, but that balance of normalcy and absurdity was something Purple secretly craved in his life. He practically swooned as more and more possibilities arose within him, layering on top of one another like sweet vanilla icing on a cake. He could have a regular job again, and he knew immediately what he would do if he had the chance. He would open a mechanic's bay and continue the work he itched and secretly longed for deep inside, helping wandering travelers from out of town with broken down plasma cores and shot accelerators. He missed the tediousness of unfastening thousands of screws and the slippery feeling of oil slathered over his work gloves while the roar of gorgeous engines rang in the background. And the math…oh how he missed running over precise aerospace calculations for hours, picking apart numbers and plugging them back in to come to one unified, gratifying conclusion. One small mistake could cost a life, or hundreds, and the danger of the work was exhilarating, something Purple had tried to explain to Red many times to no avail. The transmitter finished waking up with a hum, but Purple ignored it, lost in the wild fantasies he knew he could never have. What would Red do? Join the Naphrus 8 authorities? Run rescue missions for lost hikers deep into the forest? Oh! He could reopen the airbase as a flight school and put his pilot's training to good use! Purple held back a giggle at the thought of Red as a teacher. They could even get him one of those dorky instructor's jackets with a nametag. Nah, that would never work out. Red didn't work well with Irkens he didn't know; they'd all end up leaving because of his chauvinistic attitude or fear him to the point they wouldn't sign up in the first place. Maybe they could work together with Purple on the deck getting dirty with petroleum and cosmic dust and Red in the back scrutinizing dozens of security monitors, using his hundreds of cycles of combat intelligence to ensure no one caused trouble in the shop. Together they could earn a living the way Purple had always thought he would before becoming Tallest. At night, they would go home like any regular civilians and not have to worry about the constant, gut-wrenching threats to the Armada and the Irken Military, or the fear of assassination lurking in their shadows. Purple would cook something nice for them and they could watch stupid films together like they always did. Things could be simple for them…maybe they could even solidify their bond with marriage.

Purple shook the thought from his head. He was being too irresponsible and moving too fast and far away from who he was. Plus, Red would never enjoy mundane life and would never be his husband. It wasn't conducive to the will of the Empire and they had already taken things further than they should have. Undergoing a physical ceremony, even if they eventually wanted one cycles down the line, would be impossible. Purple was irritating himself with how far along he already was into their relationship. He felt like he'd been with Red for most of his adult life and was anxious to move forward quickly to cover the ground he felt he'd lost, but Red was still hanging back at the starting line and discovering things for himself. Marriage was too hasty; Purple would just have to be patient until Red caught up and see where things went from there, if they decided to move forward that far. He tried to fight off the sinking feeling that followed, knowing that he could never have that life for the sake of the Empire and the people of Irk. He had a duty to them as a leader to keep them safe and expand through ruthless galactic conquest, and he didn't trust anyone else to do it besides Red and himself. Everyone else was too dimwitted and Purple had worked too hard for too long to ensure his people rose to the peak of their power. Plus, he loved every luxury and ounce of respect that came with being Tallest. He adored the status, the security clearance, the limitless supply of food, and the ability to squash whoever crossed him without question. As a mechanic he had to keep his mouth shut and bend to the will of those with higher rank and height, but as Tallest he had limitless authority over everyone except Red and the Control Brains; his word was gospel in a society where he was looked upon almost as a king. How could he ever give up something like that? Still, there was a tiny fraction of him that wanted to run away from the Massive and the Armada and live an uncomplicated existence with Red. As Tallest he could do whatever he wanted within social reason and order as designated by the Control Brains; in Naphrus he could do whatever he wanted because _he_ deemed it so.

No. Again, these were only fantasies. Purple still had to call the Massive. He couldn't walk away from his duty to his people and the threat of a war over Vort with Inquisitoria. There was simply too much to do and so much time had been wasted already. He glanced around, noticing Red's robe on the floor and before a dubious idea crossed his mind. He gingerly set the transmitter back on the edge of the bed and scooped up the robe before pulling it on, deciding to leave the gaudy pink one for Red with a smirk. He needed a taste of his own medicine anyway.

It was horrendously quiet when Purple tiptoed out of the guest room and into the main living quarters of Teem and Kez's home. They weren't up yet, so he would have to be quick. Purple opted to stand as he ran through his PAK for Specialist Pem's private extension, pacing lightly across the floor as he mulled over what was appropriate to begin with. Where did he even start? It wouldn't be safe to talk extensively over a screen; the New Resisty had been dumb enough to tell him they could hack any transmissions in the area. He would have to keep things brief and talk with his advisory team at length once he and Red were safely aboard the Massive. He located the code and plugged it into the device, a loud pop of static making him jolt before the screen went completely dark. There was the familiar droning whine of a connection being made, followed by a few audible clicks. Then, a tired and groggy face lit up on the display, sitting up in what looked like his sleeping quarters. Pem looked awful. He had always been gaunt and wiry, his long limbs and thin face never doing him any justice. But now, Purple could tell the weight of the Empire was beginning to drag him down and make him ill. Dark circles rimmed his green eyes as he fought to stay upright, swaying a little.

"My Tallest! I am humbled to receive another notice from you so quickly, sir!" Pem piped up, flashing a bleary smile and giving a slow blink of exhaustion.

Another? Great. That meant the New Resisty was still sending messages. Who knew what Pem thought to be true at this point?

"Specialist Pem," Purple began, putting on his well-rehearsed air of daunting formality, "It's good to see you again. You look…_alive_, I guess." He cleared his throat and continued. "How many transmissions have you received from Tallest Red and I in the past three days?"

Pem thought a moment and squinted at his LCD, scrolling through a few things and muttering to himself. "Hm…It looks like we have received 7 total as of this morning, sir."

Purple felt his anger returning. That many? He was going to have to look over them as soon as he got back and undo whatever damage Prisoner 432 had wrought. "Those were sent from an enemy faction hiding out on Irk, you idiot." He growled, disappointed that the conversion specialist he had appointed could be so naïve as to not be able to distinguish his own words from the writing of a Vortian. "You are only allowed to receive messages from this source code, do you understand? Unless you physically see my or Tallest Red's face, you are to assume that it isn't us and give the transmission to the Comms Officer on the bridge for evaluation."

Pem's complexion went pale and his jaw flopped open, realizing the gravity of his own stupidity and what he had done to cause his leaders so much trouble. He sputtered unintelligibly and stared down at his screen, unsure of what he could say to make up for his grave failure.

"A-Ah! M-my Tallest, forgive my ignorance! Are you safe? Is Tallest Red still alive? Did he sustain any injuries? I didn't realize that there was an enemy camp active on Irk! I-I thought you checked the Naphrus airbase yourself! Oh, no. That wasn't you either, was it, sir? Oh, Irk, how could I be so blind?" He paused to take a deep breath, terrified at his mistake and furiously fiddling with something on his screen. "Sir, I have triangulated your location. Are you in danger? I have the ability to contact the Naphrus 8 authorities and usher you to safety! I'm so happy you two are alive, sir! I will scramble the Armada and send a flagship to your location-"

"Of course Tallest Red is still alive." Purple rolled his eyes, hung up on the stupid question. "Listen carefully. Our flagship has been compromised and a Meekrob ship is still in the area. There is also the potential that Tallest Red and I are being followed by a group calling themselves the New Resisty. I know for certain that any incoming or outgoing transmission is being monitored, so don't give out any sensitive information until we can talk in person."

Pem blinked and held up a finger, remembering something crucial. "My Tallest, forgive me, and this is common knowledge, but I was unaware that the Resisty had any remaining political power in the area after the apprehension of Lard Nar. He is standing trial on Judgementia in a few hours and the whole of the Resisty shall be destroyed with his execution." The little Irken's confidence returned and he puffed out his chest, happy that he could finally provide something useful.

Purple blinked and frowned. He'd forgotten about Lard Nar and forced himself, quite reluctantly, to go back to what Prisoner 432 and Urb Yen were talking about earlier during their torture. They had mentioned him a few times in their talks of Vortian independence, but Purple was at a loss from where to go from here. He still didn't know much about the New Resisty or what else they could be planning to try and take back Vort…or how far they would go to do it. He needed more information fast.

"You said Lard Nar is on trial?" He asked slowly, mulling over whether or not he should wake Red and talk this whole thing over.

Pem nodded frantically, afraid to say the wrong thing. "Yes, sir! Well, technically. He is awaiting judgement on Judgementia but has not yet been presented to the Control Brains for evaluation of his crimes."

There was another long pause as Purple thought hard about what he was about to do. He needed to figure out where the New Resisty was hiding out, how they were able to get their hands on Irken weaponry, and where they were planning to go now that their plot to have him and Red sign over Vort had failed. They had sent something to Inquisitoria to provoke their flyovers and presumably cause instability in the region, but Purple still didn't know what that something was or how to properly deal with it at this point. What was it Urb Yen had said? If Irk and Inquisitoria went to war over control of Vort, there was the potential that the New Resisty could stage a coup on the planet's surface and overthrow the Irken grip on the government. The resistance wouldn't even have to lift a finger as the two empires destroyed one another. An independent Vort meant millions of destitute, murderous Vortians immediately turning on the Irken Empire. A war between the Irken race and the Vortian race would be catastrophic and blinding, and Purple didn't feel his current administration was adequately prepared to deal with the devastation, at least not right now. He felt a lump form in his throat and swallowed. If that happened, the millions of lives lost would be an overwhelming blow to the Empire he and Red had worked furiously to maintain. If one planet broke free, it would cause feelings of false patriotism to spread throughout the whole of the Empire and rile up neighboring captives. Then, every race under his and Red's thumbs would be out for Irken blood. Was Lard Nar privy to any of this? As much as Purple hated the idea, he needed to put Lard Nar back under interrogation and squeeze him until he popped. He was the only Vortian in custody that would know such crucial information that could help save his people, and it would be worth it to talk to him to prevent whatever tidal wave was brewing in the distance.

"I'm overriding the decision to put Lard Nar on trial, and I want you to transport him to the Massive for interrogation. I want to talk to him about this New Resisty for the safety and security of our planet and our control over Vort." Purple said finally, narrowing his eyes as Pem's expression faded from one of shock to one of sheer horror.

"What?! No! We can't bring him in! He'll-" The little specialist yelled abruptly, immediately clamping a glove over his mouth to silence himself. He squeezed his eyes shut in self-loathing when he realized he had defied his Tallest. No one said no to Purple, and for good reason.

Purple leaned forward ever so slightly, bristling at Pem's noncompliance and locking him in place under his unrelenting, insensitive stare. "_No_? I don't think that's what you meant, was it, specialist?" His voice was composed, but his demeanor said otherwise, giving Pem a chance to think on what he had let slip out before he brought the hammer down.

"Of course not, my Tallest!" Pem's tone came out as a high-pitched squeak, holding his breath a few seconds before giving a shaky exhale. "I will bring Lard Nar in for interrogation and personally oversee his transport to the Massive, sir!"

Purple eased up a little, but still watched Pem closely, eyeing every tiny, unnerving shift of his eyes as he tried to maintain eye contact. "That's what I thought you meant." Purple snickered in antipathy. "I also expect a transport pod to be sent to my location. We will require a PAK technician and our uniforms to be sent as well. And, while you're at it, send a bag of popcorn. I haven't had any in a while and I want it hot when it gets here. Got it?"

Pem looked like he wanted to ask another question, but refrained, chewing on his tongue and opting to give a petrified nod instead. "Yes, sir." He diverted his attention back to his screen, squinting as he scrolled through something Purple couldn't make out. "In our current location, it will take roughly two hours for a transport pod to reach you. If you so desire, sir, I can still contact the Naphrus 8 authorities to-"

Purple hung up. He couldn't stand another minute of Pem's frantic babbling without losing his composure and chucking the transmitter clear across the room. Pem was great at his job, for the most part, but he had a tendency to ramble on forever with no end and his voice wasn't pleasant on the antennae. At least now Purple was sure he and Red were going home, even if he didn't want to leave Naphrus behind just yet.

The floor creaked behind him followed by a sheepish peep of surprise. Purple turned with a blink, catching sight of Kez in her pink footed pajamas as she tried to turn and scurry off, freezing in her tracks when they locked eyes. She tried to appear inconspicuous but failed miserably, taking a few steps forward and flattening her antennae in disgrace. Purple could honestly say he was caught off guard. She was so silent; how long had she been standing there?

"How much did you hear?" He asked on impulse, watching Kez shift her weight nervously. "Were you spying on me?"

"I-I didn't mean to, my Tallest. I woke up and heard you talking so I wanted to make sure everything was alright." She mumbled, tiny notes of fear slipping out with her words. She hesitated but decided to be truthful. "I heard everything, sir…a-about Vort."

Purple sighed and halfheartedly tossed the transmitter over to the loveseat. This is just what he didn't need, a food service drone burdened with the national security of Irk. He already had too much on his plate to worry about.

"Whatever. I'll let it slide this one time as repayment for letting us stay here."

Kez relaxed a little and rubbed her eyes on the back of her hands with an anxious smile. "Thank you, my Tallest. You're so kind." She stretched and walked past him into the kitchen, trying to forget her mistake. "Are you hungry, sir?" She didn't wait for him to respond before piping up excitedly with a skip. "I'm going to make you pancakes! I use heavy cream to make them denser, so I hope you like them."

For once, Purple had been so preoccupied with the security of Irk that he had forgotten how hungry he was. Red had taken a lot out of him last night, but he didn't dare say anything. Kez may seem compassionate, but so had Urb Yen in the beginning, and Purple wasn't about to risk telling her anything that personal. He followed the petite Irken into the dimly lit kitchen, smirking when he watched her try to reach up and click the light on, the button several inches from her fingers. She stuck out her tongue as she strained, standing up on her toes with a frustrated squeak. Purple reached over her head and pressed it, squinting as light flooded over the gleaming countertops and blinded them both. Kez shrunk back down and slumped, embarrassed.

"Sorry, sir, this place wasn't built for Irkens of my height. Teem usually has to get it for me. We've been talking about getting a ladder, but we keep forgetting to order one." There was shame to her voice as she moved forward to one of the cabinets, tugging it open and digging through its contents. She pulled out a well-worn apron that was stained with use and slung it over herself, tying it expertly in the back.

Purple pulled out a chair at the dining table and plopped down, watching Kez with renewed interest. "You don't have to call me that." He said tentatively, watching her reactions as she pulled boxes from here and there, spilling a bit of flour on the floor with a small curse.

"Call you what, sir?" She heaved all of her supplies to the middle of the floor and sat cross-legged on the tile, pulling out a long spoon. She scooped up a mixing bowl and began to throw ingredients together, measuring by eye and smiling when she knew she had it right.

"I mean, you don't have to call me sir. It's just the two of us here, and I'll have enough of that as soon as I get back to the Massive."

"Sure thing, my Tallest!"

"…or that."

"Eh? What am I supposed to call you, then, sir?" Kez looked perplexed, pouring a copious amount of some unknown liquid into her bowl before furiously whisking it together with her spoon. "You're my Tallest. Irkens like me are supposed to show you respect."

Purple shrugged, leaning over the table and tapping his fingers against the metal, trying to urge her to hurry up so he could eat. "Just call me Purple. It's my name and it makes me feel normal." He paused when Kez stood and tried to hoist herself up on the counter to turn on the oven, pushing up the bowl first and struggling against the door of the cabinet. It was as pathetic as it was amusing. "Do you need help?"

Kez was out of breath as she continued to heave herself up, finally flopping face first onto the cold countertop. She gave Purple a weary thumbs up and shook her head, rolling over and staring at the ceiling. "No, my Talle-…I mean, _Purple_." His name rolled carefully off of her lips, as though it was forbidden. "Someone of your status shouldn't be doing the dirty work of a service drone."

Purple frowned and pushed himself up, crossing his arms over his chest in annoyance. "Hey, I like dirty work! Someone of my status has the right to choose what he wants to do and what he doesn't." He scolded, watching Kez flinch and taking her unintentional jab as a challenge. "Point to what you need."

She didn't argue, pointing up at the cabinet a few feet above her head. "The pan. There's only one. I keep telling Teem to put it lower, but she always forgets."

Kez flipped on the stove as Purple hunted around in the cabinet, the smell of hot plasma filling the kitchen as the burner warmed. He passed the heavy pan down to where Kez sat, feet dangling off the edge of the counter and a fat smile beaming up at him. Kez was weird. Not necessarily in an unnerving way like Urb Yen had been, but in the sense that her compassion seemed boundless for someone so small. She was so pleasant to him regardless of what he said or who he was, but it was genuine nonetheless. She seemed interested in Purple as an individual, not because she wanted to stay on his good side or try and claw her way onto his favorite's list. Purple smiled back and felt himself relax, growing accustomed to Kez's bubbly personality as they began pouring out the batter and eagerly cooking together. Purple couldn't remember the last time he had cooked for himself, and there was so much more that went into it than he had ever known. It was oddly therapeutic. Kez chatted lightly with him, keen to share her tips on temperature and ingredient substitutions and not caring if everything went right over her leader's head. She instructed him to find a plate and immediately flipped a pancake onto it with a giggle, carefully coating the pan with another thick layer of batter to start the whole delicious process over again.

"I wasn't always a food service drone, you know." She said suddenly, eyeing the tiny bubbles that formed in the batter as it sizzled. She gave a sad smile. "I was in the Academy to become a Communications Officer. I was almost through my training when I had to drop out because of my height." Her smile faded as she tossed another pancake onto the plate with a sigh. "I didn't meet the qualifications by a few inches and they told me I was too short to work for the Armada. I tried to find something else and begged the Control Brains to assign me to a fleet somewhere, but my height always got in the way. I was reencoded as a food service drone and assigned to Foodcourtia for fifteen cycles before I came across Teem's job posting. I'm lucky she hired me."

Purple frowned, a part of him understanding what it felt like to not be able to do what he loved. Sometimes he would see the brazen hull of a Viral Tank or the sleek fiberglass frame of a Spittle Runner and feel his mouth begin to water, knowing he could only look and not touch. Too bad Kez was so short. She probably would have made a great officer someday.

"I wasn't always what I am now, either." Purple replied, watching Kez flip off the stovetop and jump down, staggering a little when she landed hard on her feet. "I used to be an aerospace mechanic with the Imperial Dock Crew."

Kez motioned for him to pass her the plate before the two crossed back to the table. Out of habit, she pulled out Purple's chair and waited respectfully for him to sit before positioning herself across from him and scooting him a fork, brandishing her own with a cheeky grin.

"I know. That's why all of us little guys love you." She giggled, taking the first bite to make sure it tasted alright before nodding to Purple to do the same. "We haven't ever had a Tallest, that I know of, who came from humble roots like yours. They were all either part of the Elite, scientists, or invaders before. You inspire us to move up through our ranks and be better someday." She swallowed and relished in the taste of her cooking. "Even if I know I won't ever move up the chain because of my height, I'm happy to have a Tallest who knows what I'm going through."

Purple stabbed at his food before shoving it in his mouth. He wasn't so sure about that. He had created his problems on his own and had never had issues with his height, towering over everyone of similar rank for as long as he could remember. There were many times Purple could have risen through the ranks and become an officer in the Elite, but his fear of combat and his love for messy labor held him back. But, if Kez was happy believing what she did, he wasn't about to tell her otherwise.

"I can hear you two from the other room." A groggy voice resounded through the kitchen, followed by the trudging of heavy, sleep laden footsteps. "You woke me up with all your banging. Smells awesome, though!"

Purple turned to look over his shoulder as a hand landed on him, squeezing slightly before immediately releasing and pulling away. Red. He looked ridiculous in Teem's pink robe, but didn't seem to care all that much, and Purple was almost angry at how refreshed his partner was in the face. His usual snarky cynicism shone through the groggy fog lifting around him as he yawned. Even after as far as they had gone the previous night, Purple still felt his spooch flutter when Red flashed him a soft smile. That beautiful, ruined smile. He wouldn't be smiling for long once he knew that Purple had pulled Lard Nar off trial, and this was a conversation that was going to get heated. Kez didn't need to be around for this one.

Almost immediately, Purple slammed his fork on the table and turned to their host, causing her to jump in her seat. "I know we just started eating, but can Tallest Red and I have some privacy for a bit?" He asked, hoping she wouldn't be offended.

Kez didn't seem bothered in the slightest. Without questioning, she pushed back from the table with an enthusiastic nod. "Of course! Feel free to finish the pancakes. I can always make more." She gave another stretch and her back popped with an audible click. "Teem and I forgot to take a bath last night, so I'll go do that instead. Take as much time as you need, my Tallest, and just knock on our door when you're ready."

With that she skipped away and was gone. Kez was either a complete idiot or a charming saint…or just a mindless, obedient drone like the rest of society. As soon as he heard the door shut and lock, Red went to steal her seat but stopped when he heard Purple huff in exasperation.

"Excuse me, aren't you forgetting something?" He pouted, leaning back and eyeing Red from below.

Red seemed genuinely confused. He glanced around but only grew impatient, giving a shrug. "No? I don't think so." He went to sit once more but slumped when he heard Purple drum his fingers against the table. "Ugh, fine. What do you want, Pur?"

Purple rolled his eyes and tapped furiously against his lips. "You're my boyfriend! You're supposed to kiss me after you wake up!" He narrowed his eyes. How could Red forget something so important? "Now that you've banged me you don't wanna kiss me anymore?"

Red's antennae twitched at the awful word. "I thought I told you not to call me that. It sounds…" He couldn't find the right word, slight humiliation coming over him as he thought, "…tacky."

Purple whined in childlike complacency and drew in a deep breath. Oh, Irk, not this. Anything but this.

"Don't you dare, Pur." Red warned ominously, knowing exactly where his partner was going with this. "I swear to Irk if you yell-"

Purple didn't listen, yelling as loud as he could without his voice cracking. "Boyfriend, boyfriend, boyfriend!" He bellowed mockingly, laughing when his words echoed vehemently through the kitchen to the foyer. "Red is my _boyfriend_!"

Red almost had a come apart when he heard Teem and Kez chuckling together in the other room, feeing his face flush out of mortification. "Stop it, Pur! I don't want the whole damn planet to know!"

"Make me, then." He ceased his war-cry and closed his eyes. He raised his chin slightly and waited expectantly for Red to lean down and meet him, trying not to giggle in anticipation.

Red hesitated but felt his irritation simmer down. Dammit. How could he stay mad at such an adorable face? He stooped down with a smile and planted a light kiss against his partner's lips, feeling Purple sling his arms over his shoulders and return it with an enthusiasm Red hadn't been expecting. Red would never admit it, but he was quickly growing to like how affectionate Purple could be. He was greedy and possessive, and it made Red feel oddly special and wanted, even if it was annoying and immature. He pulled away and Purple didn't let him, tugging him back down and stealing a final sweet kiss to his cheek before reluctantly releasing him.

"That's better." Purple purred, watching Red flop down in Kez's chair and steal her fork, wiping it on his robe before digging into his breakfast. "Did you sleep, ok, love?"

Red shuddered and gave a fake gag. "Would you let the nickname thing go already? That's even worse than you calling me your boyfriend." He sneered in abhorrence. "If I knew dating you would be this bad, I would have never asked."

"No take backs. You're stuck with me now so you'll just have to deal with it." Purple chuckled, noticing the twinge of amusement in Red's eyes as he tried to maintain a scowl.

Red tried to make it look like he was ignoring him, becoming completely absorbed in the rich taste of Kez's cooking. "I guess I slept alright. It was nice having a warm body with me again, even if you kept kicking me." He said in between chews, earning another airy chuckle from Purple.

"Good, good." Purple swallowed, before taking another slow bite. Ugh. He had to tell Red about Lard Nar. He would find out sooner or later so he might as well get this over with. "So…I called the Massive this morning." He began, trying to sound as casual as he could, hoping his concerns weren't obvious.

Red looked up with a blink. "And you didn't wake me up? How did that go?"

Purple grazed his fork lightly against the porcelain of their plate, mulling around how to start. "It went well. I talked to Pem and he's sending a transport pod to pick us up." Notes of relief washed over Red but vanished when Purple spoke up in a small voice, trying to rapidly sneak in what he had to say without Red noticing.

"And…I might have taken Lard Nar off of trial."

Red dropped his fork with a clatter and nearly choked, trying not to spit as he forced himself to swallow. "You did _what_?" He growled, locking eyes with Purple who threw his hands up defensively with a cheesy smile. "How could you do that, Pur? Have you forgotten how long we've been trying to kill him?"

"Hear me out, Red." Purple warned, trying not to agitate him further. "I know you hate him-"

Red cut him off and slammed his palms on the table. "I don't just hate him, I want him _dead_!"

Purple nodded slowly. "I know you want him dead," he corrected himself, "and he will be soon, but I thought it would be a good idea to put him back under interrogation to see what he knows about the New Resisty." He paused when Red gave a scoff. "This is important for the safety of Irk and the Empire, Red. You're smart, so you should see that too."

Red clenched his jaw and leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest as he thought. Purple waited silently, hoping his partner would see the importance of his decision and understand where it fit into the bigger whole. If they didn't do this, they were risking losing vital information with Lard Nar's death that they may not find until it was too late. If he somehow knew how to fix this mess, then pulling him off trial was a risk they would be stupid not to take.

Red retrieved his fork and twiddled it between his fingers. "You should have asked me first." He grumbled, tapping the metal against the table, his tone shifting slightly to something more serious. "But, that's actually a pretty good idea. You're finally thinking about things the way you should."

Purple lit up, surprised at the sudden compliment. For once, he and Red were on the same page and, as rare as it was, he wasn't about to question it. "I figured we could squeeze him together until he popped." He grinned deviously and felt his eagerness swell when a tiny smile threatened to peak on Red's face. "Plus, it would be revenge for what they did to you. This time you can make _him_ hurt." He extended a hand across the table, happy when Red got his point and took it.

Red couldn't deny he liked the sound of that. He grazed his thumb over Purple's fingers and snickered. "Pur, it's not even a special occasion." He joked, returning his attention to his breakfast.

Purple did the same, still latched firmly onto Red's hand and refusing to let go. "It is now. They'll be here in about an hour and we need to be ready. I don't want Pem showing up when I look this disgusting."

"Yeah, you might scare him off."

"Hey!"

"Shut up. It was a joke…You look beautiful."

* * *

Pem was faster than anyone had anticipated, storming furiously into the bar and demanding the bouncer to see his Tallest. Initially, he'd been denied access and Teem had to scurry up to the front and save him, reluctantly dragging him back to where Purple and Red waited. He'd immediately began to fuss over them, furiously checking them over for cuts and bruises and turning on Teem and Kez with a slew of irate questions when he noticed Red's missing tooth. Teem had bit her tongue and taken the manipulation until Red had piped up and defended her, effectively silencing the specialist and stomping him back into the ground where he belonged. They had talked at length about the New Resisty and their capture, Pem frantically taking notes and giving the occasional nod or dismayed gasp. He'd commented a few times about the presence of Inquisitorian ships flying dangerously close to the Massive and refusing to maintain open communication upon entry into their airspace, leading the Armada to believe they were gathering information on their weapons systems for a potential attack. It was making the Armada incredibly nervous without their Tallest with them to properly deal with the threat, and Pem constantly remarked how Purple's keen diplomatic eloquence and Red's ruthless militaristic knowledge were both desperately needed and missed.

The two dressed and Purple had almost forgotten how hard it was to breathe in his restrictive uniform, quickly growing accustomed once more to the horrid bone-crushing squeeze of his corset. Red did the same and they said their goodbyes to Teem and Kez, thanking them for their hospitality and kindness as Pem gave them a swift promise that he would reward them for their valiant efforts when his Tallest were safely aboard the Massive again. With that, they had left the bar behind and boarded the maroon flagship Pem had sent, leaving behind the planetary surface and watching it grow tiny and blurred below them. Purple was secretly sad to see Irk disappear behind them as the pilot set the jump codes for the Massive, the ship lurching into overdrive as colors blended and mixed outside from the dizzying speed. Irk had been wonderful and terrifying all in one, but it was still home. The Massive was only a vessel, an impermanent apartment of sorts that Purple knew he would be trapped in for hundreds more cycles whether he wanted to be or not. As the PAK Technician worked tirelessly to restore proper function between them and reattach the extensions that Prisoner 432 had amputated, Purple had watched Red through the duration of the flight, the two having to put up some semblance of a wall between themselves again to compensate for their new relationship. He was quiet and focused throughout his repairs, fixated on scanning report after report that Pem presented to him and asking the occasional question about what little information they had regarding Inquisitoria. Apparently, the Inquisitorian Prime Minister was claiming that an unmarked Irken ship had left the Vortian surface and pursued an Inquisitorian patrol in the atmosphere before firing on a civilian research vessel. There was a strong possibility that this was the work of the New Resisty trying to cause political upheaval over the Vortian capitol, but no one besides the Inquisitorian pilot and three philosophers had been privy to the event. The vessel in question had been moved back to Inquisitoria for extensive evaluations, but the damage had supposedly been enough to cause the Inquisitorian people to panic, sparking a wave of antagonistic flyovers and unyielding patrols over Irk and the Armada in retaliation. It was all a display of power, but that could quickly escalate and get out of hand the more Inquisitoria decided to flex their muscles in return. Red had made a few calls to several fleet commanders scattered around Vort and found they all had the same worrying story. Purple suggested that once they were settled again to invite the Prime Minister to the Massive for a private conference to restore confidence in their alliance, and Red immediately complied, allowing him to begin thinking about what preparations would need to be made to accommodate someone of such high status. There was no other way around it and they were unfortunately going to have to bend to the wills and whims of the Inquisitorian people for a bit while this mess blew over.

In the meantime, Lard Nar had been pulled from trial on Judgementia with the agreement of the Control Brains and was awaiting interrogation in the brig of the Massive. According to Pem, he hadn't put up a fight and was unpredictably willing to talk, claiming he had critical information that could be of great importance to both the Vortian people and the Irken Empire regarding the motives of the New Resisty. Purple decided to take this with a grain of salt. Lard Nar was a terrorist and knew how to play this game, as he had so many times in the past. He was infinitely clever, even if he was a bit of a coward, and had singlehandedly broken out of a military prison on Vort to hijack a ship under the nose of the Irken Empire many cycles ago. Not to mention the numerous failed attacks he'd plotted against Irk, the Massive, and now Conventia. He'd say anything to gain his and Red's trust, and Purple wouldn't let him have the satisfaction this time. Purple knew how to play dumb and would use his air of false innocence to his advantage to force Lard Nar to the truth. And, if that didn't work, he'd let Red off his leash. There was no way Lard Nar would keep quiet after that.

The ship had come to an abrupt halt when the Massive came screeching into view, renewed and fresh after being ripped to shreds inside the nightmare of the Florpus. It was gorgeous, an incredible fusion of Irken and Vortian engineering, but equally as daunting and formidable. An escort team had been there to meet them, guiding the transport pod into place and ensuring there was no foul play before allowing the Tallest to exit back into the ship they had learned to call home. It didn't feel like home anymore. Red had been eager and excited to get to work, immediately curious to speak with Lard Nar, but Purple felt otherwise. He missed Irk. There was something refreshing about the forest that lifted him up and made him feel better about himself. The Massive was huge, yes, but it all looked the same. The air was stagnant and there was a constant mechanical hiss resounding from somewhere he couldn't place his finger on. And, the last time he was here, his entire bridge crew had died, and he'd almost lost his partner, terrible noises and scenes threatening to replay in his mind. He would have to learn the names of all their new recruits and try and forget the old ones, shoving them to the back of his mind like they had never existed. It was wrong, but that was the way it would have to be. Sure, Irk was no better and they had been held hostage in the research station, but at least there was peace in Naphrus. Now there would just be work and stress.

There was no more time to rest as they wound their way deep into the belly of the gargantuan ship, greeted warmly by their subordinates as they went. Purple couldn't tell if they had actually missed them or if they were just relieved that there was now a chance at preventing a war. He already found himself missing the company of Kez. She had been so genuinely interested in who he was and what he liked that he'd forgotten that he was different than everyone else. He appreciated the wide-eyed gawks and salutes thrown in his direction as he followed Red and Pem down the corridor, but they weren't for him. They were for the rank. They passed Rarl Kove who immediately pressed himself to the wall, antennae straight out of artificial veneration. Purple waved him on flippantly without a word. Why couldn't he have died in the Florpus instead?

Finally, Purple could see the heavy, reinforced door to the brig come into view around the corner. There was frantic muffled shouting and he promptly recognized the voice to be Lard Nar's by the accent. He was fervently pleading with someone to let him speak with the Tallest, only growing more worked up when the guard inside told him to be quiet. Red glanced back to Purple when they reached the door, sharing his look of heavy skepticism. Pem was right; Lard Nar really did want to talk to them. But they were on opposite sides. Red had destroyed his ship and killed his crew and he was still begging to speak with them? Something wasn't adding up.

"There are four guards inside with the detainee, my Tallest, should he try anything. He has been thoroughly searched and no weapons were found on his person." Pem spoke up, breaking the silence and punching into the keypad to the side of the door. "Are you sure that you do not want a trained specialist to take your place, sirs?"

Red shot him a look. "I _am_ a trained specialist, and this is personal."

Pem swallowed timidly and unlatched the door, stepping aside and handing Purple a thick docket of all known information on Lard Nar from his birth to the present. "If you require any assistance, sirs, please do not hesitate to contact us. I will be right outside the door should you need me."

Purple nodded him on despite Pem's fearful visage and followed Red through the hatch, hearing it close softly behind them and squinting in the bright white light of the interrogation room. The whole room was stark clean, the light binding and unnerving to the senses as the whine of hot florescence rang irritatingly from above. Purple blinked as his eyes adjusted and heard a loud gasp of disbelief followed by the sound of rattling cuffs and a distressed stutter.

"Y-You're actually here! Please, you must listen to me! Both of our planets depend on it!"

There was a sharp bang as one of the guards slammed his fist against the wall followed by a terrified yelp, the voice silencing once more. Lard Nar sat, shackled and frightened, at a single table in the middle of the room. He looked starved, ill, and incredibly drained from his time on Judgementia, his wrists heavily bruised from his bonds and his clothing tattered and unwashed. He was battered and strung out from the crash, the tip of one of his long horns chipped away painfully from the impact. He looked different without his goggles, smaller even, his eyes two paranoid pinpoints of yellow darting around he room after some unseen force as if it would swallow him whole. He drew in a shaky breath and sunk down in his chair when the guards moved in behind him, boxing him in against the table.

Red whistled and threw his hands behind his back, chuckling when Lard Nar jumped a little where he sat. "Long time no see, Captain. It's a shame you survived the crash."

Lard Nar suddenly snapped back to attention at the sound, leaning forward and gripping furiously at the edge of the table through his cuffs. "You!" He cried, a shaky, tentative ferocity shining through his desperation. "Y-You killed my crew over Conventia! Have you no decency?! They were innocent!"

Red laughed mockingly and scooted out a chair at the table, throwing himself down. Purple followed, sitting next to him as he continued to chuckle. "You and your crew deserved what you got for attacking my ship all those cycles ago."

"We attacked because of your murderous rampage through our star system!" Lard Nar retorted, baring his teeth. "I used to be a scientist for your Miyuki until she betrayed us all! I helped build your precious Massive! Does that mean nothing to you monsters?!"

"Yeah, yeah, we all know the story by now." Red yawned and leaned over the table on his elbows, flashing Lard Nar a grin that made him squirm. "Now, let's get this over with so I can go eat. Word is you wanted to talk to us about your New Resisty."

Lard Nar shuddered at the name and shook his head, his anger fizzling out to be replaced with sheer terror that made Purple's skin crawl. "They're not my Resisty anymore." He breathed, staring blankly at his lap.

Purple blinked and skimmed quickly through the docket that Pem had given him. "It says here that you formed the Resisty on a Vortian moon after your prison break." He began, watching closely. "If they're not yours, who's are they?"

Lard Nar's gaze snapped back up and his shoulders tightened out of fear. "I-I don't know!"

Red sighed in annoyance and reached down, pulling Urb Yen's pistol from his waistband and slamming it hard on the table. "Do you know what this is?"

Lard Nar held his breath, pressing his back into the cold metal of his chair at the sight of the gun. "A-Are you going to kill me?" He whimpered, his breathing quickening as Red's stare burned deep into his forehead. "A-Am I going to die?"

"I asked you a question. Do you know what this is?" Red repeated slower, growling through his teeth.

Lard Nar hesitated before giving a tiny nod, unable to peel his eyes from the pistol. "I-It's an Irken P-44 plasma pistol w-with electromagnetic coils," he paused and examined the weapon closer, "with a custom hair trigger."

Red took the pistol in his hands once more, running over the grip with his fingers before holding it up in front of Lard Nar's face. "Good. You're not as dumb as I thought." He pointed to a tiny Vortian scribble on the casing. "And what does that say?"

Lard Nar squinted and began to tremble. "I-I can't read without my goggles. M-My eyesight isn't the best."

"Look harder or I'll beat you with it like _she_ did to me." Red warned, alluding to the weapon's original owner and refusing to let up his dominating front.

"Wait, _she_?" Lard Nar thought hard for a moment, staring at the tiny inscription before allowing his jaw to go slack upon recognizing the handwriting. "No…It can't be. _Urb Yen?"_ His tone cracked and wavered in a viscous mixture of disappointment and anguish. He swallowed hard and riled himself back up, trying to stand but being forced back down by the heavy gloved hand of one of the guards. "Please, where is she? I have to speak with her! This is all a dangerous misunderstanding!"

"She's dead." Purple piped up, watching his prisoner's anguish only grow in intensity, the tiny Vortian squeezing his eyes shut and spiraling out of control. "The same will happen to you unless you tell us how the New Resisty got their hands on custom Irken weaponry."

"I told you I don't know!" Lard Nar cried, straining against his chains to no avail. "Urb Yen sent me a troubling transmission a few days ago about a new supplier who was to meet her at the Naphrus research station! I tried to contact her back, but my signal was intercepted, and your Armada circled me on Conventia!" His lip quivered. "I-I can't believe she's dead…"

"Do you have a name for this supplier?" Purple asked, trying to keep his questions at bay and reel the shaky Vortian back in. "A rank? Anything?"

"No! All I know is that he convinced Urb Yen and my brother Slad Nuch to meet him for talks about reviving the Resisty's hold on Irk! S-Something about a promise to completely overhaul the mission to reclaim Vort t-through a forced signature from one of you! They didn't give me a name; you have to believe me!"

"Slad Nuch? You mean Prisoner 432?" Purple questioned leisurely, running back through the paperwork in his lap until he found an image of Prisoner 432 grinning back at him, holding up a medical award for his advancements in PAK technologies. "I shot him in the shoulder when he tried to stab me."

Lard Nar let his head slump forward and his arms go limp in his lap. "P-Please…tell me you didn't kill him?" His voice was small and oozed a soul crushing sadness that tainted the atmosphere with palpable discomfort. "H-He's the only family I have left…"

Red went to say something, but Purple stopped him with a light palm to the chest. He had an idea of how to coax information out of their prisoner. "As far as I know, he's alive and sending transmissions to my Planetary Conversion Specialist." He said slowly, enticing Lard Nar to meet his gaze.

"H-He is?" Lard Nar babbled, giving a shocked laugh of relief and reaching up, running his hands over his eyes as some of his fears broke. "I haven't seen him since he was thrown in prison! He had broken out and joined Urb Yen on Irk! Do you know where he is?"

"Maybe." Purple lied with a sickly-sweet smile. "But if you want to see him, you'll start from the beginning and tell us everything you know about the New Resisty and their plan to overtake Vort. We can't help you unless you help us." He continued to butter up the little Vortian, trying to quickly earn enough of his trust to force him to talk. "Is there anything I can get you to make you more comfortable before we start?"

Lard Nar clamped his mouth shut and wavered, breaking eye contact with Purple to glance at Red who continued to bombard him with a steely glower. He swallowed again and took a deep breath, exhaling as his horns twitched back out of dread, not sure if he could trust the sudden pleasantness to Purple's words.

"U-Um…I want a s-smoke." He stuttered, afraid of the response.

"What kind?"

"V-Vortian hydrafruit if possible."

Purple reached up and snapped his fingers, drawing one of the guards forward. "Find one." He demanded shortly before waving the guard on. He watched closely as the guard gave a curt nod and left the room, resealing the door behind him.

Purple turned back to Lard Nar with a soft smile, noticing Red shift unenthusiastically out of the corner of his eye. Luckily, he kept his mouth shut and let Purple work his magic. He knew how to play the game, and he played it well. Red would be wise to stay out of the way and let the predator dance with his prey.

Several minutes passed and there was a loud thunk as the door swung back open. The guard hastily stepped through, out of breath, and brandished a tiny plasma lighter in one hand and a wrapped bundle of leaves in the other.

"There was no hydrafruit, sir. All I could find was this Vortian Paradoxis from one of the comms officers up deck."

Purple chuckled conceitedly when he noticed Lard Nar's eyes light up and his mouth begin to water. He grew twitchy as the guard set the bundle and the lighter a few feet away from him on the table, eyeing it longingly with bated breath.

"It's been a while since you've smoked, hasn't it?" Purple mused, picking up the bundle of leaves and passing it to Lard Nar, who eagerly snatched it up and sniffed at it, drinking in the intoxicating, earthy scent. Purple flicked the lighter when his prisoner brought the bundle to his lips, leaning forward and running the herb through the flame before withdrawing with a smirk. "They don't let you smoke on Judgementia. You must have been getting desperate."

Lard Nar took a slow, deep, inhale and let his eyes flutter shut, savoring the exotic taste of his home world. He exhaled sluggishly, a few of his anxieties flowing away with the pale green smoke that curled from his lungs.

Purple tried not to cough at the rancid smell. Why did everything from Vort have to smell so awful? Instead he maintained his friendly demeanor as best as he could and continued where the conversation left off.

"Now that you're less tense, why don't you tell us everything you know, hm?"

Lard Nar took another puff and flicked his ash carelessly to the floor with a skilled finger. "You have to believe me." He said under his breath, as if afraid he would be heard. "This wasn't my doing…your capture and the breaking of the Irken-Inquisitorian Treaty."

Red rolled his eyes and sneered. "You expect us to believe that a terrorist like you didn't have their hands in this whole thing?"

Purple hastily shushed him, urging Lard Nar to continue. He had him right where he wanted him, and he had to keep him there for as long as he possibly could. He silently signaled to one of the guards to begin recording the conversation on their wrist gauntlet and they promptly complied.

"I formed the Resisty many cycles ago, as you know, after I and several others broke free from an Irken military prison outside of my home planet's capitol." Lard Nar began hesitantly. "Urb Yen was among the captives I met there. For a long while we pulled together resources and hands to help us overthrow the Irken Empire. We were so close until your agent on Earth pulled our ship down into orbit and we had to escape." He paused and took another sharp inhale on his cigarette, blowing smoke across the table and clouding the room in a faint haze. "We were forced to regroup in the far reaches of the cosmos near Conventia. Without any resources, I sent Urb Yen and a group of rebels to Irk to run recon on you from afar in your empire's capitol. I figured if they were stationed on your own planet, you wouldn't notice any foreign code hacking into your transmitters here on the Massive."

Purple nodded and Red grew enraged, biting his tongue to keep himself from exploding. Purple inconspicuously brushed the toe of his boot against his partner's under the table, trying to calm him. Lard Nar thought a moment, trying to get his events in order before speaking once more.

"We watched and learned from you for many cycles. When you entered the Florpus, we celebrated your death and never anticipated your survival." He shrunk back a little when he noticed Red clench his fists. "That's when things changed. Urb Yen had hacked the security footage inside your transport pod and found that you were planning on venturing to Naphrus. My team was only a few thousand miles away in the capitol, so we thought this was the perfect opportunity to face you directly."

"You plotted our assassination." Red hissed accusingly, unable to keep quiet any longer. He pulled back at the corner of his mouth with a finger, showing off his missing canine. "I should do the same to you."

Lard Nar fidgeted uncomfortably and faltered again, dawdling over his words. "It wasn't I who plotted your assassination. All I wanted was to try and convince you to sign Vort back over to my people. But…" He trailed off and Purple leaned forward expectantly.

"But, what?" He asked. This was the moment they were waiting for.

"But _he_ got involved." Lard Nar whispered, bringing a shaky hand to his lips and taking a deep, uneven inhale as he stared, unblinking at the far wall over Purple's shoulder. "The third party. He was someone who knew of our whereabouts and our secret operations on Irk. He sent an anonymous transmission to Urb Yen from an unknown location offering her crates of Irken weaponry to capture you and force you into compliance. She agreed and relayed the information to me. I tried to advise her against the dangerous offer, but she refused, saying that this third party had connections on Vort _and_ in the Irken capitol and that his plan to overthrow you would bring us closer to independence."

"You mean there's someone higher than you?" Red couldn't hold back his disbelief when Lard Nar gave him a faint nod.

"I believe so. I tried to send a final warning to Urb Yen on Irk when she traveled to the Naphrus Research Facility to meet this third party, but I was intercepted by the Armada and quickly encircled. My ship went down, as you already know, over Conventia and I was apprehended on the surface and brought to Judgementia. But it doesn't end there. I was instructed by a guard to take an anonymous call in my cell."

Purple felt his head begin to swim at how convoluted this was becoming. "So he contacted you directly." He began, trying to wrap his mind around the absurdity of what he was being told. "What did he tell you?"

Lard Nar gave a small shrug of defeat. "He said that he was taking control of the Resisty, and that if I wanted my brother to survive, I would keep my mouth shut about what little I knew. He believed I had been too soft on the Irken Empire and that his plans to relinquish my people from your control by force was the only way to win back the planet." His expression darkened. "He's soft spoken but bloodthirsty. He plans to pit Inquisitoria and Irk against each other to force you both out of Vort. But what he doesn't realize is that Inquisitoria has generated an artificial atmosphere over my planet to allow natural life to grow once more to aid their research. If the treaty is broken completely and they pull out, that technology leaves with them and my people will either burn or freeze to death."

Red gave an over-exaggerated yawn and rested his cheek in his palm. "Shut up about saving your stupid people, already! How does this help us?"

"Because," Lard Nar's voice was becoming desperate, "If you go to war with Inquisitoria, you won't stand a chance! You may have the numbers, but they have advanced technology and we both know that they have the capability to destroy your people's infrastructure. He, this third party, will continue to antagonize them with your own ships until they break and attack your planet! I've listened to the chatter of the guards. He's already hijacked one ship and attacked an Inquisitorian research vessel, and things will only get worse from there. In this scenario, we both lose; Vort is destroyed and Irk loses millions all because of one stupid fanatic who didn't think his plan through! Do you really want that?"

Purple exchanged a quick glance with Red. This was way bigger than they had ever anticipated and went way deeper than they could conceive. If what Lard Nar was saying was true, then the future of both their races hung in the balance. Purple didn't care about the Vortian population. They were nothing but trouble, like an awful itch he couldn't seem to scratch. But Irk…Lard Nar was right. There were hundreds of millions of civilians living on the planetary surface alone, not to mention hundreds of Smeeteries. Inquisitoria could wipe out half of the planet with one cannon sweep, devastating the population and bringing unfathomable carnage to the Irken race.

"How do we know what you're telling us isn't a lie?" Red demanded harshly, tightening his grip on Urb Yen's pistol to try and intimidate the Vortian further.

Lard Nar flinched. "Y-You'll just have to believe my word! I won't deny that I want you dead. I want to watch you burn alive where you stand." He growled out suddenly. "But this…this is not the way to an independent Vort. My people will die just as yours will. But I have an idea of where this is all coming from." He finished off his cigarette and tossed the butt to the ground, recapturing his captor's attention. "You know I'm not stupid. For days I've watched and ran over the facts of what's been happening."

Purple tore at the corner of his docket, refusing to show weakness at the sudden spike of angry determination in Lard Nar's voice. He opened his mouth to speak, but the Vortian cut him off, causing his blood to run cold as ice.

"You have a _mole._"

The word echoed through the tiny room, rendering Red and Purple speechless simultaneously. There was a long silence between them as Lard Nar watched their expressions expectantly, giving the idea a chance to sink in. Without warning, Red jumped up and jabbed a finger at the door.

"Leave us, now." He instructed to the guards, watching them hesitate before narrowing his eyes. "That's an order. You are to wait outside for further instruction."

Without a peep, the four guards haphazardly saluted and stumbled over one another, filing out of the hatch, locking it behind them. Red spun on his heel and turned his back to the table, smoothing a hand up over his antennae. He mumbled something under his breath that Purple didn't catch before turning back and stalking to where Lard Nar sat. In a flash he grabbed Lard Nar by the collar and hoisted him up like he weighed nothing, hearing him cry out and holding tight when he began to flail and struggle aimlessly in the air.

"Red!" Purple scolded, slamming the docket down hard on the table.

Red didn't listen, going blind to his need to dominate, glaring up the Vortian in his iron grip. "You mean to tell me that there's a double agent working under _my_ antennae on _my_ Massive?" He barked, giving a hard shake. "I don't think so!"

Lard Nar scratched furiously at Red's gauntlet, yelping when he pretended to drop him. "P-Please try to see reason here!" He yelled, clutching at Red's fingers with tiny hands. He gasped and averted his frantic gaze to Purple. "Y-You! Tallest Purple! You're the kind one! You have to listen to me!"

"Don't you dare look at him!" Red shook him again. "You're wasting our time! Give me one reason I shouldn't dissect you right now on this table!"

Lard Nar swallowed his fear and forced himself to continue, his words flying out as one almost incoherent garble. "P-Purple, please! You created social programs for my people on your planet! You've helped us…you've shown us compassion that no other Tallest has since the war! I know you can be reasoned with, and I can't save my race b-by myself! I can't believe I'm saying this," he squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his sharp teeth. "I-I need the help of the Irken Empire to save Vort!"

Purple froze as the room hushed again. His eyes bounced from his irate partner to the Vortian terrorist they'd worked so hard to destroy. There was still no guarantee that Lard Nar was telling the truth. This could all be a carefully calculated plan to escape. But what if it wasn't? If there was a chance Irk could be destroyed, shouldn't Purple do everything in his power to prevent that terrible fate? This wasn't going to be pretty, but he knew what he had to do.

"Put him down, Red." He looked up firmly, trying to remain calm when Red turned his glare on him instead. "Don't give me that look. I said put him down."

Red sighed at the solidity of Purple's intonation and shrugged. "If you say so."

Purple yelped in alarm when Red bashed Lard Nar's head into the sharp corner of the table, immediately rendering him unconscious before dropping his limp body to the floor with a dull thud.

"Dammit, Red! That's not what I meant, and you know it!" Purple yelled in frustration.

Red didn't look perturbed in the slightest, sitting back down and slinging an arm over the back of his chair. "He was getting on my nerves." He muttered, casually glancing to the floor. "And don't tell me you believe his shit. He's lying to us."

"Whether it's true or not, we need to consider the possibility that Irk is in serious danger." Purple kept his voice down but the exasperation in his tone remained. "If he tries anything, we can just kill him. He's one Vortian; what can he possibly do by himself anyway? But if he's telling the truth, he could be useful."

Red looked completely unamused. "Why can't we just blow up his planet and be done with it?" He suggested dismissively. "No Vort, no problem."

Purple groaned. For someone with cycles of military history under his belt, Red was a total idiot sometimes. "Geez, and you think I'm stupid?" He scoffed. "That would give Inquisitoria more of a reason to come after us! No Irk, no Empire! No Empire, no Tallest!"

Red went to retort but stopped himself, crossing his arms with a deep frown when he realized Purple was on to something. "So, what are you suggesting we do then?" He grumbled, his interest flitting in and out.

There was a small, pained cough from the floor as Lard Nar came to, pushing himself up on unsteady arms. He gave a slow blink and tried to stand, collapsing back onto the floor a few times before finally wobbling to his feet. He moaned and clutched at the shallow gash near his temple, wincing when he almost fell forward once again.

"Hey, Vortian!" Red began with an unenthusiastic remark. "If what you're saying is true, what do you propose we do about it?"

Lard Nar shook his head and blinked a few more times, woozy and uncoordinated. He didn't say anything but stared back at his captors with bleary, murky eyes.

"Don't make me change my mind and throw you back in prison." Red warned with a huff, glancing over at Purple who didn't move.

All of a sudden, Lard Nar came to his senses and cried out in pain. "Ow! H-He's a menace!" He scrambled backwards, pushing himself as far as he could into the back corner of the room. "Keep him away from me! I won't talk to him!"

"Now you're just asking for me to hurt you!" Red snapped, moving to stand but stopping when Purple reached out and gripped his shoulder.

"Maybe," he hesitated, knowing Red wouldn't be happy with what he was about to say, "it would be better if you left us alone for a minute."

Red's response was immediate and harsh. "No. I don't trust him to be alone with you."

"Do you trust me?" Purple asked again, hoping to crack his partner's hard outer shell and break through to him.

"Not really." Red looked away again and thought a minute before cursing under his breath. He leaned in, his words barely a whisper and dripping with renewed concern. "What if he tries something, Pur, and I'm not here to defend you?"

Purple gave him a soft, reassuring smile. "Who was it that saved you in Naphrus?" He quickly brushed his fingertips over Red's in a fleeting gesture of affection. "I can take care of myself and we're not going to get any further with you here. Let me take over."

Red still didn't seem sure, eyeing his partner closely and searching his face for something Purple didn't understand. There was worry in his eyes that made Purple uneasy, but it didn't change what must be done. With another hot curse, Red pushed up and made his way to the door, stealing another hard glance at Lard Nar cowering in the corner. He covered his face with his hands when he heard Red speak up a final time.

"If you so much as look at him wrong, I'll rip you in half." Red warned, reluctantly throwing open the hatch. "I'll be listening very carefully so don't test me."

"_Thank you_." Purple mouthed silently, ushering Red away and feeling his pulse escalate when he finally disappeared from sight. Purple heard him slump hard against the door and knew he would hear everything, making him feel a little safer. He turned his attention back to his prisoner and cleared his throat, ready for a confrontation. "Lard Nar, it's just you and me. You can come and sit down now."

Lard Nar slowly peeled his hands from his face and squinted. He took a few careful steps forward and curled his lip in suspicion. "He's really gone?" He asked slowly, drawing the sentence out and staring over at the door as if he expected it to fly back open.

Purple was growing tired with how slow their progress was. He sighed. "Yes. I won't let him come back in until we're done. It's just you and me." He repeated, hoping to coax Lard Nar back into his grip.

The Vortian narrowed his eyes and spat in the direction of the hatch before pulling himself back up into his seat. "How can someone so vile run an empire? I hate him."

Purple tried not to let the chide get to him. "The feeling is mutual. And Red's not vile. He just gets in over his head sometimes." He willed himself to stay calm, defending his co-leader and reasserting his dominance in the room. "Now tell me what you want from the Irken Empire."

Lard Nar eased back into the conversation, crossing his thin legs and wincing again as his head began to throb. "I hate that I have to ask for your help, but are we in agreement that we need each other? I need you to help defend Vort from this third party and his awful plan, and you need me to gather information on his whereabouts to protect Irk and stop a war with Inquisitoria."

Purple blinked, not following. "Why would I need _you_? I have many capable Irkens here on the Massive that I can trust over a terrorist."

Lard Nar's eyes shifted nervously. "You _do_ need me." He pressed. "If I'm right, I think this third party is Vortian. Why else would he want to free Vort so dearly? I think he's hiding in plain sight here on the Massive. This is the only command center besides the capitol where it would be easy to hack into a fleet ship on Vort. There would be enough power here to remote into the cockpit."

Purple nodded slowly. "But that still doesn't explain why I need you."

Lard Nar tried to say composed, twiddling his fingers in his lap. "A Vortian as fanatical as this one would never trust an Irken, no matter how hard they tried. Think about it; what if he has backups and triggers in place should he be arrested? His plan would still go off without a hitch. I, as another Vortian however, can find this individual and befriend him under the guise that you have broken me and sent me to find him. I could lie and say that you think I am working for you, when I really am, but convince him that I am really hatching a plot to murder you and Tallest Red without your knowledge and help him with his plot to overtake Vort. I would be able to relay vital information to you about his schemes and we could take them down together one by one until all of his resources are destroyed."

Purple stiffened. "And how do I know you're not already working with him?"

Lard Nar's gaze was unrelenting and cold. "You'll just have to trust me." He extended his shackled hands over the table, refusing to break his firm eye contact. "I call for a truce. Let me be your double agent for the sake of both our races. I can't let this New Resisty destroy my people." He paused and looked away momentarily. "This doesn't mean I like the Irken race or you. I still want you and Red dead but...I need you."

Purple stared down at his hands. Was this really a good idea? If Lard Nar joined their team, there would be a massive public backlash that would destroy any high approval ratings he and Red had worked for. Plus, this idea was far too unstable. Lard Nar befriending them, telling this third party that he really hadn't, then working as a double agent under this other Vortian's judgement to gather intelligence was too risky. There was the potential that third party could catch on and start feeding Lard Nar bad information that only made things worse. The last time Purple had trusted a Vortian, she had shot Red with an electric rifle and tortured him. On the other hand, there were only three Vortians working on the Massive as translators, so it wouldn't be hard to weed out the culprit…hopefully.

"Do we have a deal?" Lard Nar broke Purple out of his thoughts, extending his reach further.

It was worth a shot. Purple could always kill Lard Nar anyway if things got out of hand, and he would be able to scrutinize every move he made while he was on the Massive. The Irken Empire hadn't worked alongside a terrorist since before Miyuki and, Purple had to admit to himself, he was still incredibly apprehensive that this was going to backfire. But, what choice did he have? If this would protect his people, his Empire, his lover, and himself, he needed to take Lard Nar's suspicious offer and hope that everything went according to plan. Ok. This could work. He reached forward and took his enemy by the hand, his cold skin disgusting against his palm as they sealed their truce with a strong handshake.

"Deal. Welcome back to the Irken Empire."

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_Oh boy_. So sorry this took so long for me to finish. I think it took like five days, which is unusual for me. I really have no excuse other than I had to really think about how I wanted to introduce Lard Nar to the story and I couldn't quite pin down any of the three methods I'd had laid out. I mulled it over for a long time before I finally decided on what you just read. Also, congrats to **Renard bleu** for calling this alliance in the reviews, you clever cookie! Have a good day, friends! Danke!


	11. Intermission

Let's shoot for two updates in one week, fam! Also, hello and welcome **Ryntaia** to the follow family! Thank you for adding this story to your favorites list as well, love, and thanks again for the lovely fanart! Let's see if we can get this fic to 100 reviews! We're so close, and I know we can do it!

_**PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE THIS CHAPTER:**_ Two updates in two days? _What?!_ I know, right? This chapter will be different, drastically shorter, and will be the only of its kind through the duration of this writing. I'm calling it an intermission, a tiny hint of a look into the past events leading up to the awful present we're forcing all of these characters to deal with. This will be from the point of view of someone sinister and lurking in the background; the third party! Everything will make sense soon, muhahaha.

**I'm rating this chapter a tentative M for allusions of unknown mental illness, suicide, and violence. It's pretty tame though and appears in past tense. Just a warning in case these themes might bug someone.**

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**INTERMISSION**

**An undefinable amount of time in the past in a cold, harsh, Vortian military prison outside of the Vortian capitol;**

This was not the life he was meant for. No rights, no voice, no name. He was a scientist once, a noble man of reason eager to help his people advance through the stars towards a brighter, happier tomorrow. The invasion had taken everything from him, stripped him of everything he knew and slaughtered the one he held closest to his heart. He had witnessed the extraction, feeling the planet shake and crumble violently beneath his feet as the core was ripped from his mother's center by a horrific Irken machine, a beating heart extinguished for the advancement of a single generator. Why…why had they taken the very thing that made Vort whole? The atmosphere had been stripped, and what remained had become toxic, boiling and searing one half of the planet to a barren desert and freezing and crumbling the other to permafrost. They had been allies once, two formidable traces only made stronger by a mutual love of technology and the need to expand; they were supposed to expand together. At least, that was the promise. How wrong they had been to trust the green menace. They had been used, their culture raped and their cities pillaged as the heartless Irken Elite marched the streets under the blue-eyed warmonger that the once benevolent Miyuki had become.

He had fought back, bitten the antennae off an Irken gunman in his lab before he was shot in the knee. There was nothing else he could do after he had been forced to half limp, half march as he bled out to Vortian Prison Camp 4. Here he would stay for the rest of his days as the planet was stripped of its remaining natural life and his people used as science experiments for Irken military technology. He would never walk right again, never feel the warmth of his dead wife. Miyuki had won…or so he had thought. Her death was unexpected and her successor, Spork had been named as Tallest. He was no better, ridding the surface of Irk of any remaining Vortian refugees by force before chasing them through the cosmos, one planet at a time. Every day there were more and more stories of slaughter and wide-spread massacres as further planets were conquered, the never-ending pain and destruction staining the Empire he had once called his second home. They were no friend to him…they were the Vortian apocalypse.

Cycles had passed and guards had come and gone. To this day he could hardly eat, emaciated and gaunt from his unconscious hunger strike. He'd met bunkmate after bunkmate, some killed in ferocious prison riots and others selected for military research and never heard from again. He had been well behaved for some time now, always cooperative when his cell was searched or he was drug off for extensive interrogation over things he hadn't done. The feeling of Irken claws connecting with his jaw had become normal and expected, his smooth grey skin constantly stained a mottled mix of deep blues and purples. He had become so numb to the pain that he felt was becoming a part of his DNA. It had chipped away at his psyche, each blow changing him at the molecular level until he was nothing. He craved it, savored it, used it to fuel his rage towards his captors. But he was one Vortian, if he was even a Vortian anymore, so what could he possibly do? Then, someone had been thrown in the cell directly across from his. They made his breath hitch, made his palms sweat and rendered him speechless in the best and worst of ways. It wasn't love or affection that he felt, but something deeper and more philosophical that he hadn't felt in cycles; hope.

He had watched Lard Nar since he had been apprehended, followed his tracks through the prison courtyard, counting each of his light footsteps as he went. He could smell him and almost taste him in the air as he scrutinized every bite he took in the mess hall. He was fresh faced, untainted by the horrible nightmares of the Irken Empire…and that made Lard Nar enticing. He was enamored by his movements, his smile, and his ingenuity. He wanted to know him on a deeper level and dig into that intelligent, refreshing mind as if it would make him whole again to peel back his layers and find what made him tick. Was it stalking? Was it wrong when he secretly collected used candy wrappers Lard Nar threw in the trash? Was it unsettling when he watched him sleeping in his cell across the corridor for hours on end, ticking off each time he turned over with another carve into the wall? Maybe…maybe it was. He didn't care. He had determined that they were two rogue souls made for each other; brothers destined to move away from this place together. He was desperate for someone, anyone, to see him for what he used to be, not the numerical statistic he had become in this corrupt justice system. He was a scientist, an engineer, and a father. He wasn't the broken shred of used Vortian flesh that had been tossed to the side, no, he refused to be that any longer. Lard Nar was his flame in a sea of depression, a determined, rebellious soul with infinite compassion to his cause and a foolproof plan to set it all in motion. He wanted to be part of that plan. Somewhere in the deep reaches of his fractured brain, he was. He and Lard Nar were plotting their escape together and their forceful retaliation against the monsters that had wreaked havoc on their planet. They would have fervent conversations in his thoughts, stay up late and run through their battle plans over and over until they got them right. What he didn't know is that Lard Nar had never even known he existed.

The day came. Explosions tore through their prison block. There was heavy plasma fire as flashbangs ripped through the atmosphere and disoriented him with a dizzying array of color and strobing light. He could remember alarm bells shrieking, guards running frantically in all directions and calling furiously for reinforcements against the onslaught. Lard Nar and his rebel faction fought valiantly to their escape, a white knight coming to save him from his bloody tower. But that safety never came. He watched in desperation, trapped behind the iron bars of his cell and grasping uncontrollably with frightened hands through the freezing metal, screaming…screaming until his voice was horse and his uniform clung to his body, heavy with sweat.

_Take me with you._

Lard Nar was gone, a flash of a warm, sharp-toothed smile burned into his mind to remember him by. There was the whirl of a ship outside followed by the scream of powerful thrusters. He was all alone again, curled into the corner of his barren, grimy cell, staring uncomprehendingly at gory carnage his false brother had left behind. No. Lard Nar would come back for him. Lard Nar was everything to him, a replacement for the family he had been so forcefully ripped from. He would wait as long as it took. Yeah…yeah…he would come for him. He had to.

Hours turned to days, days to weeks, and weeks to cycles. He grew weary of waiting, desperate for any sign of Lard Nar returning for him. A letter secretly encoded onto the back of his mess hall receipt, a warning being sent to him through a junk food commercial on the communal transmitter, a secret code scrawled on the disgusting walls of the latrine. Everywhere he looked, he saw his lost brother, and the more he saw, the more he realized he had been forgotten. He began to wonder if he had ever been known in the first place. There were long nights and bitter tears followed by the dig of sharp metal from the box spring of his mattress against his skin, slicing open his veins. He'd been found before he could bleed himself dry, forcibly patched up and stuck in a padded room with minimal light. The only contact he had was the occasional snicker or jab of Irken guards passing his tiny room, only further eating away at what little consciousness he had left. When he was good, they would let him out to watch Irken propaganda on the communal transmitter, speech after speech of disgusting Irken language sinking deeper into him and prying away his morality. He'd watched Spork's funeral and the inauguration of two younger, leaner Tallest to the head of the Empire. One a red fleet commander with a power complex, and the other a whiny former mechanic slathered in purple. The crowd had gone wild when they were reencoded as their new leaders, excited at what the interesting juxtaposition of personalities and varying intelligences would bring to the future expansion of the Empire.

Expansion. The word rattled in his skull after the ceremony had ended and made his horns twitch in irritation. It was always about expansion and murder, an Empire built on the corpses of millions of races in their doomed star system. Then, something else caught his eye that day that shattered his world like a mirror, piecing it back together and reflecting a false image of reality that made his head spin. Lard Nar was plastered over the Irken news. At first he wanted to cry, the beautiful face of his false friend a welcome releif in the torture he had undergone. Was this a message to him? Had Lard Nar decided to come for him after all?! Then, frantic anchors spewed tales about several of his failed attempts at reclaiming Vort, playing recordings on repeat of the resistance fleeing over and over from their target zones, followed by a poignant speech of his fantasy brother offering diplomatic talks with the Tallest in exchange for Vortian land. Lard Nar was…_failing_? That couldn't be right. His Lard Nar was a genius, a revolutionary even, and a confident leader of the growing resistance through the cosmos. As he watched the broadcast and eyed the recordings of Lard Nar's failed takeovers, he realized in horror that they were right. Something snapped inside him and an excruciating sense of betrayal and wrath ripped through him like an electric shock. Lard Nar had promised the resistance he would free Vort and here he was in front of him again, giving weak attempts at diplomacy with the Irken Empire instead of ripping them apart. _Diplomacy_. He had waited for nothing but a joke of a resistance with an equally stupid name. There would never be an independent Vort and Irk had won.

He had screamed, wept, thrashed, and bit, tearing chunks of flesh from gloved hands as he was pinned down and carried back to his cell, back to the confines of his oppressive, claustrophobic nightmare. He couldn't go back. He _wouldn't_ go back. It all happened so fast. He had managed to wiggle an arm free, clocking one of his captors in the cheek and knocking him hard to the floor. The guards dropped him, his back colliding with the ground before he scrambled to steal a plasma pistol from one of their utility belts. One shot; a hole in the chest. Two shots; a body disfigured and maimed. He fumbled for the key card on one of the guard's uniforms, ripping it away before running for his life. He tore through hatches and doors, firing at anything that moved in a frenzied panic as he wailed. When he finally reached the exit, he didn't stop, fear consuming him and his instinct to survive driving him forward. He continued to run for hours, forcing his burning muscles to their limits and beyond, his calloused feet blistering agonizingly in his rubber boots.

When he finally stopped, the thin air of Vort's disfigured atmosphere stung his lungs and made it hard to catch his breath. He'd taken may lives to save his own, but for what? He looked around helplessly at the wounded landscape, barren and isolated in the nothingness of space and drifting around their star to its eventual demise. This once fertile landscape had been reduced to rubble and dust, creatures clawing at the soil for a scrap of anything to eat while they shivered violently. He fell to the ground, dropping his pistol and staring woefully at the sky. He was ready to die. Lard Nar had betrayed him and his people, and there was no hope left. Wait…what was that? A tiny metallic speck came into view and slowly revealed itself. An Irken Voot meandered lazily through its daily orbit, surveying the surrounding territory as it pattered through what was left of the atmosphere. He blinked when it slowed and threw out it's landing gear, watching it carefully with hungry green eyes. It descended a few miles inland and he squinted to what looked like a beat-up runway, half worn away from use, surrounded by a variety of scientific research buildings. He felt a broken, desperate grin form on his face when he saw the Irken flag fluttering in the harsh wind. It was a planetary conversion team. He gave a chuckle to himself and threw his head back up to the sky, eyes alight with a renewed sense of patriotism and fervor as he scanned the stars. He could hijack one of those ships and get out of here, taking with him whatever technology he needed to start the war that Lard Nar had been too cowardly to begin. He scooped up his pistol and gripped it tightly in his fist, narrowing his eyes in vicious fortitude. He was a scientist, an engineer, and a father, but most importantly, he was a _Vortian_, and he was out to spill Irken blood. Long live the Vortian Empire; long live the New Resisty!

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Thought this would be a fun chapter to write. The story will pick up as normal in chapter 12! Have fun kids!

The next chapter will be...fluffy. Oh so fluffy. Our boys are going on a date. Hopefully Red doesn't fuck it up.


	12. Wear Something Nice

YO. SERIOUSLY. I never expected this fic to get the crazy amount of attention it's been getting. Thanks so much to all of you wonderful, sick, bizarre individuals out there who like what I write. We hit 100 reviews on the 19th, and I'm kind of blown away. We're going to continue on with the story where we left off before the intermission! Danke schön!

We're also gonna take a break from the hard politics of this and do something…._**fluffy**_. FLUFFY. Or fluffier than where we've been hovering for a bit. Prepare your hearts and hold onto your hats because this is gonna sound like something out of Teen Vogue. Gott help me for how excited I am. This is also the chapter that I thought of first like two years ago when this fic first crossed my mind, so happy it's finally happening. Phew.

**Chapter rated T for mild language and adult themes.**

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"Dammit, Pur." Red mumbled under his breath, pressing himself hard against the cool metal of the hatch.

It had been five hours. Five hours of tedious waiting but still, Red refused to budge. A truce had been reached and a scribe had been sent in to his partner to draft an official plan of action, but that had been some time ago. Purple had dropped his conversation with Lard Nar to a low whisper and Red couldn't hear anything besides the occasional call to the door that everything was still running smoothly. It was making him nervous. He drummed his fingers against the hatch as he waited, hunting for any sign that something had gone terribly wrong. Should he go in? He didn't want to compromise Purple's work, he'd definitely get his ass kicked, but the gnawing pressure of not knowing what was happening was going to kill him. Purple had asked Red to trust him, but they both knew he couldn't do that. He would trust Purple with his life, and he had, but the thought of leaving him alone with a terrorist and a plasma pistol with only a tiny scribe as a witness was a risk he had been more than reluctant to take. They were just now figuring each other out, discovering sides of one another that gave Red hope that his ugly emotional scars could finally be healed through Purple's soft touch and even softer patience. There was so much more he wanted to experience with his partner; He wouldn't lose that chance to a Vortian.

"S-Sir?" Pem's voice piped up from where he reclined on the floor, fighting to stay awake as the minutes ticked on. "Are you alright?"

"Shut up." Red didn't want to hear anyone else. Not now. He wanted to hear Purple; to hear that he was alright.

It was still surreal. In less than twenty-four hours, they gone from being best friends and co-rulers to lovers without any real natural progression. It had just sort of happened, an explosion of unknown romantic tension between the two that Red had never picked up on but now realized had always been in the background between them. He had loved every second of the fire, the intense burn to be closer, and the odd but complete satisfaction he felt from Purple's fingertips. He had adored the sweet nothings and tiny whispers of that familiar voice that had become so beautifully foreign, a song in the back of his mind. He wanted that again, those kind-hearted, affectionate words and tasteless nicknames. Red frowned, cursing himself for thinking about something so trivial in a time of great political stress. But it wasn't trivial, was it? He was allowed to feel this, he had to remind himself. He was allowed to have emotions, as unnatural as they felt, because under the machine he saw himself as he was still flesh and blood. This was the potential next chapter of his life, a defining moment that could shape the very fiber of who he was and how he would rule the Empire. Purple knew him better than anyone he'd ever met, knew his darkest corners and his brightest dreams, and he wanted to treat him right. Red sunk further into the hatch as he thought, something suddenly dawning on him as he ran through the events of the past few days. They'd run through the frigid forest, gotten captured and tortured into near submission by the New Resisty, and Purple had cried his eyes out more than once. They had ended up in a disgusting bar full of loud non-conformists and drug addicts, gotten drunk to drown out their mutual depression, and had sex in the tiny guest room of his former girlfriend's house. Huh….When he thought about how they had finally come together, it didn't sound all that idealistic. If he was truthful with himself, Red wasn't all that interested in the romantic scene anyway, but Purple had always been blatantly captivated with stupid relationship clichés. He loved them to the point that he had commissioned a whole collection of cheesy films to be put together from around the galaxy so he could watch them on repeat whenever he wanted. Red couldn't count how many times he'd been forced to sit through nauseating scenes of haughty princes and dimwitted princesses swooning over one another through poetry or stupid musical numbers that ended in hasty under-planned marriage and impatient love making. Purple had slipped Red airy comments on more than one occasion about how he wished the universe could be that dreamy and passionate. Red had always cringed at the idea and brushed it off, but now that they were together, he wondered if Purple would like it if he did some of those things. He realized he had never taken Purple on an _actual_ date. They'd unintentionally skipped that step, opting to dive deeper faster than he had expected, not that he was complaining. But…he wanted to give Purple something special. He had waited in Red's shadow and vied after him for so long that he deserved to have everything he longed for.

Red jumped as the hatch swung open without warning, nearly falling through the doorframe. He spun around and gave Purple a wide grin of relief, but it soon faded when he noticed how pallid and drained his lover was. Purple didn't return his smile but instead forced himself to trudge laboriously into the corridor, the jittery scribe following close behind and bombarding him with a chatter of mindless questions as he scrolled through the treaty to make sure he hadn't missed anything pertinent. The glimmer of childlike wonder had gone from Purple's eyes, leaving behind two dull lavender orbs as he only half listened, running through terrifying possibilities of war and destruction while he muttered half-heartedly to himself. This wasn't like him, and Red didn't like it. He was supposed to be the strong, pessimistic one, not Purple. Lard Nar appeared suddenly in the doorway and the guards leapt to frenzied attention, hands flying to their weapons when he held up his shackled hands expectantly.

"Don't." Purple mumbled without turning around, reaching down and taking the reader from his scribe before holding it out to Pem. "Release him, he's with me."

There was the sound of shuffling feet mixed with the heavy scents of confusion and distrust. Uncertain glances of bewilderment were exchanged followed by an unintentional but blatant disregard for Purple's command.

"But, sir, he's a _terrorist_." One of the guards spoke up unexpectedly, his disbelief shared amongst his coworkers. There were a few timid murmurs and shaky nods of agreement as Lard Nar frowned and grew nervous, hands still in the air. "The Empire does not appeal to the wishes of terrorists, sir. It goes against the Imperial Law set in place by the Control Brains."

Purple finally turned, trying to appear formal but his despondency giving him an air of tired defeat that couldn't be hidden. "I know the law, soldier. It's also within my jurisdiction to pardon Captain Lard Nar of his crimes." He began, blinking in irritation when horrified gasps echoed down the corridor, the decision spreading like wildfire through groups of wandering navigators and communications specialists. "I am assigning him to the Vortian translation team below deck and if I hear that anyone is causing him trouble, I will personally oversee their punishment."

This time, it was Lard Nar who spoke up, victorious, as if he now held authority over the team of guardsmen glaring ominously down upon him. "If you would be so kind as to take these horrible things off?" He paused and gave a tiny, apprehensive smile. "You will be seeing much more of me now. I look forward to working with you all."

Red swallowed when he caught sight of the dirty, antagonistic looks the guards were shooting in his partner's direction, the rapid loss of faith and hierarchy palpable in the stifling air. Fingers clenched around spears and glares held firm and resolute, the corridor going electric with Purple's dominating stance against the equally rigid spines of his subordinates. There was a skeptical defiance ringing in Red's antennae for the first time since the disaster of Operation Impending Doom I, as if the group of officers was mulling over whether or not they had to listen to the bizarre instruction. Red wanted to grab Purple and hoist him away, knowing that his partner's approval ratings had just plummeted through the ground and were continuing to rapidly diminish from the pedestal they were crumbling from. Purple noticed as well, shifting restlessly where he stood but relaxing a bit when Red moved to his side to defend his decision.

"You heard your Tallest." Red reasserted, taking control of the situation by force only to be met with equal inflexibility. "Or are we going to have a problem here?" A strange instinct to protect his mate overcame him. He wouldn't let a lowly team of scumbag guardsmen tear Purple down. After all, guards were ultimately dispensable.

The guards waited in venomous silence, staring past Red to where Purple eyed them back warily, waiting for a mutinous confrontation that never came. The head guard gave him a slow blink and turned to Red, throwing up a salute. Red locked him into his death defying stare, a silent warning to tread carefully.

"Forgive me, Tallest Red." There was a deliberate leaving out of Purple's title in a passive aggressive attempt to show his mounting disrespect. He unhooked his keys from his harness and bent down, fumbling with the latch on Lard Nar's restraints before unlocking them with a tiny click.

Lard Nar grinned and immediately rubbed at his aching wrists, oozing a sense of triumphant joy as he let a giddy chuckle slip out. "Thank you, Tallest Purple!" His eyes shone with renewed optimism. "You are too kind!"

"Too kind indeed…" One of the guards growled sarcastically, his aggressive whisper barely audible as Red scanned their faces heatedly, unable to determine who had the audacity to try and insult his co-Tallest after they had been brave enough to openly defy him.

Purple nodded dejectedly, avoiding the gaze of his subordinates and resigning to the fact that his people would only grow less and less trusting of him

"Pem?"

The little Irken shot up from the floor at the sound of his name, obediently awaiting further instruction. At least he still seemed to have respect for Purple. "Read over what I've given you very carefully and keep this between us. You're in charge of watching Captain Lard Nar. If you notice anything suspicious, report to me immediately, or just shoot him." He glared down at Lard Nar, who continued to revel in his newfound independence, despite the threats to his safety. "_You_…Get to work."

Purple didn't wait for a response. He had to get away from the crushing weight of the Empire folding in around him and boxing him into the political downfall he was predicting. He took off down the hallway, leaving the group behind as he chased what little composure he had left and tried to keep himself from spouting things he would only further regret. Red blinked and hastily followed, alarm gnawing at him from the inside out. Purple was on the edge again, he could feel it, and he had to deescalate this before he let it consume him.

"Pur? Wait!"

He tried to keep up as Purple rounded a corner, trying to ditch the prying eyes of Pem and the others he'd left at the brig. As soon as they were out of sight, he slumped hard against the wall and let his guard down, a concoction of gut-wrenching remorse and angst conquering him. His felt his pulse grow unsteady and swore he felt it skip a beat, swallowing thickly and forcing himself to take a few tight breaths. He was still too young to have a stroke, right? Irk, he hoped so. He gave a heavy exhale as Red caught up to him, out of breath, feeling himself sink lower into the realization of what he had just done. He'd crippled his reputation with this alliance and there was no going back from that kind of political devastation. It would spread like a plague, and sooner or later he'd be ruthlessly smeared in every headline on Irk and the surrounding galaxy as something weak and undesirable. He could see it now; Tallest Purple bows to the wills of the very terrorist who threatens the safety his Empire. What if his people began to question his judgement or worse…his sanity? It didn't matter how many social programs he instilled or how many pathetic planets he helped conquer; this damming pact would hang over him until the day he died and haunt him like a dreadful ghost through the rest of his miserable life. But, what choice did he have? He couldn't let his people face annihilation, even if this made them turn on him. He had to be strong and continue to hold his head high in the face of adversity, no matter how much he wanted to beat it into submission.

"That guard _hesitated_." He mumbled angrily, refusing to look Red in the eye as his thoughts raced. "They were going to turn on me, Red. My own guards questioned my word like they had a choice."

Red glanced down the hallway, making sure they were completely alone before reaching out and placing his hands tenderly on his partner's shoulders. "They're not going to turn on their Tallest, Pur. They'd be going up against me, and that's not something any of them want to do." He squeezed slightly in reassurance and tried to change the subject, voicing the first thing that came to mind. "What did you say to the Vortian?" He whispered, urging Purple to look at him.

He didn't, scowling instead. "We came to the agreement that he would work as a double agent to find the mole and feed us information." Purple explained hastily, not wanting to think about the details of his potential downfall any more than he had to. "I didn't have a choice, Red. We need his help whether I like it or not, and we need to stop this before it gets out of hand and Inquisitoria attacks Irk because of this guy." He winced, bringing his hands to his temples when he felt his pulse skip again. "I can't worry about my reputation right now. My head hurts…I knew I wasn't ready to come back here."

Red hushed him and wrapped his arms around Purple's waist, pulling him in close and feeling him put his weight against his chest. He was unnaturally warm. "Do you ever stop complaining?" He tried to lighten the mood, running his claws up the length of Purple's ribbed corset. "We've dealt with worse than this in the past. Look at me, Pur." He surprised himself with the sensitivity of his own voice. He had to ask; had to bring that magic spark back to Purple's eyes.

Purple was hesitant but didn't argue. He leaned back in Red's strong hold, finally meeting his gaze with a bleak look of his own that squeezed at Red's equanimity. "If you're going to say something say it so I can get out of here."

Painful silence.

Red felt his breath hitch and the longer he held Purple in his arms, the more he felt himself choke on his words. What the hell? Even after the unconstrained intimacy they had shared, the beautiful and raw information that had passed between them, Red's nerves were still getting the best of him like it was the first time they had touched. His gaze flickered to Purple's lips, a deep-set frown fortified with tension and impatience. Red fought back the intense need to touch him, the need to exercise the demons possessing him with his mouth, furiously reminding himself how unsafe it was to even thing such a thing where the Control Brains might see. He had to get Purple alone again for both their sakes. Dammit, just ask already! He's _your_ partner, it's not like he'll say no, idiot!

"Eh…give me some time." Red began as casually as he could muster, trying to form a plan as he went but unable to come out and explicitly ask Purple on a date. Think! "All I need is an hour."

Purple's frown dipped lower, unamused. "For what, exactly?"

"It's a surprise." Smooth. Red was still the worst at expressing himself, and right now it was only making him look like more of a fool than he usually was with this sort of thing. If only he could be like the stupid romantic clichés Purple loved so much…wait. Wait! Maybe, just maybe, he could. There might be a way that he could bring the magnificence and tranquility of Purple's favorite films and fantasies into the real world, if he did it correctly, but it wouldn't be easy. Still, those profound eyes, those deep oceans of heliotrope couldn't be denied and seemed to beg to be pampered and adored. Red gave himself a resolute nod as he made his final decision and Purple watched him, puzzled and growing slightly annoyed at the unproductivity of their seemingly pointless conversation. Red wasn't sure he could manage to create the incredible imaginary world now bouncing through his mind, but he would have to try, even if it was sickeningly cheesy and miles out of his comfort zone.

Purple grew impatient with Red's silence, groaning and trying to push away. "I'm not in the mood for any more surprises." He whined. "We have too much to do. I still have to call and invite the Prime Minister of Inquisitoria for a conference, and don't you dare try to do it. You'll just piss him off more like last time and I can't run around fixing your mistakes right now. And we haven't been to the bridge in days. Who knows what we're going to walk in to up there?" Purple shuddered and Red chuckled, winning an indignant glare but successfully silencing him.

"Why don't you put all that on hold? We've only been back for a few hours and a few more away won't hurt." Red couldn't believe he was suggesting they skip work, and in a time of war no less. It cut him deeply and went against everything he was, but Purple needed what he was going to give him, and he was going to make sure his shaky plan went off without a hitch. "I promise you'll like this. It's something you've always wanted."

"A value meal from Shloogorgh's Flavor Monster?"

"Ugh, no! It's something much better and way harder to find."

Purple narrowed his eyes suspiciously and ignored the offer, a brief flash of curiosity finally igniting between them. "What could be better than that? I thought Shloogorgh's was your favorite." He eyed Red suspiciously when he shrugged, looking him over like he had some kind of disease. "You're acting weird. Plus, there's a Vortian mole running around the Massive and you want me to put all of this on hold? What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Would you shut up and trust me? He's not going anywhere, Pur, and Lard Nar," Red rolled his eyes in hatred at the filthy sound of his enemy's name, "needs time to weed him out anyway. Like I said, give me an hour and then meet me in the Holodeck." He thought quickly, trying not to let Purple catch on. "And wear something nice."

"Why the Holodeck? And what's wrong with my uniform?"

"I dunno, it's just not you…the real you. I want you to wear something you like, not something you have to wear. Besides, you have tons of stupid clothes, so it shouldn't be that hard to pick."

"Like _civilian_ clothes? But you never want me to wear those! This isn't like you at all, Red, what are you plan-"

Red couldn't help himself as he felt his desire finally boil over. Before Purple could finish his annoying slew of questions, he leaned forward and stole a lingering kiss against his partner's warm lips, feeling Purple's irritation melt away instantly at the glorious contact as he practically evaporated against Red's chest. His weary eyes widened in disbelief then slowly fluttered shut in contentment, leaning into the feeling he'd already missed so much and swallowing the fear of being caught. Red quickly pulled away and smiled when Purple tried to follow, eager to step over the threshold of danger they were running towards, instead throwing himself further into Red's arms with a sigh of cozy gratification. The tension clouding Purple's frazzled mind finally broke and began to pour away like steam, a tiny, reserved smile cracking his tired face and dragging him back into Red's firm grip with a giggle. Red felt like he was back in the Academy, sneaking around between classes and stealing forbidden kisses while hiding out in locked janitor's closets. It was as thrilling as it was terrifying, and he couldn't get enough of Purple's sweet scent, drinking him in like the smoldering liquor he was. There was a moment of languid silence between them as they cherished each other's much needed warmth, before Red felt Purple's soft breath graze coyly over his cheek, pulling back too soon and almost daring him to kiss him again with that playful look in his eye. Red would have taken him up on the tempting offer if the sound of footsteps echoing down the corridor hadn't made both of them to nearly jump out of their skin. Purple somehow held back a startled yelp and shoved Red off, forcing him back several feet as they scrambled to throw a hurried barrier between themselves. Purple mouthed a silent apology as Pem and Lard Nar suddenly rounded the corner, blissfully unaware that they had almost caught their leaders in the act. Red soured as he looked Lard Nar from head to toe, sighing in blistering frustration at the foolish, sharp-toothed smile glaring up at him. His false innocence and disgustingly sweet visage made Red itch to punch him in the stomach. Vortians were generally hideous, but this one was considerably worse with his beady little eyes and his false projections of leadership and control. Not to mention his diminutive, pathetic stature. Red wouldn't even call him a speck. Yuck.

Purple leaned nonchalantly against the wall, trying to keep his cool as he smoothed the wrinkles from the front of his robe with a shaky hand and a tense laugh. "Did you need something, specialist?" He sputtered, wincing at how obviously disturbed his voice sounded but somehow maintaining a false smile.

Pem blinked, looking from the clear humiliation on Purple's face to Red's irritable scowl. He shrunk back a little in uncertainty, picking up on the uneasiness wafting through the air and averting his gaze back to his prisoner to try and find some semblance of comfort.

"M-My Tallest, I was wondering if you could accompany me to the Translation Bay." He faltered, unable to peel his sickly green eyes from his new Vortian colleague. "I…I'm too scared to introduce Captain Lard Nar to the team myself, sirs. I'm afraid they may not believe me that a truce has been reached and could…" he gulped at the foreboding thought, "…um…hurt me."

Purple relaxed a little when he was sure he and Red hadn't been caught. That was close. Almost _too_ close. They hadn't been on the Massive for more than six hours and they were already struggling to keep their affair under wraps. This relationship was going to be harder than they thought and, while Purple liked a challenge sometimes, he was going to have to keep his needs under lock and key for Red's safety. He wanted nothing more than to take Red's hand and stroll through the corridor in a brazen statement that yes, they were partners now, and they were proud to be together despite the ruling of their asinine mechanical leaders. But, Purple also didn't want to die, reluctantly smothering the thought when Pem hesitantly cleared his throat.

"Of course." Purple said through his teeth, trying not to sound as horrendously unenthusiastic as he felt. "Unfortunately, Tallest Red has business to attend to in the Holodeck upstairs, so he won't be joining us."

"Oh? Are you going to survey the new fifth dimensional lenses they've just installed, sir?" Pem asked, genuinely interested.

Shit. Red didn't know what to say. He opened his mouth to speak but all that came out was a low droning tone as he tried to formulate something but couldn't quite seem to reach it. Purple elbowed him hard in the ribs, forcing him to be quiet before saving him once again with his sly tongue.

"Yeah, yeah it's all very official. They want his opinion on how to use holo-technology for new military simulations." Purple lied effortlessly, quickly shoeing Pem and Lard Nar back around the corner. "And," he gave his partner an eager smile that clouded his thoughts and made him blind to everyone but Purple, "I will meet him there in an hour, so he had better not keep me waiting."

Red grinned when Purple gave him a playful wink but immediately felt cold when he tore his lingering gaze away and disappeared after the two annoyingly fretful beings towards the Translation Bay. Purple's voice had been tired but enthusiastic, leaving Red to speculate to how wonderful this date could be for them if only he could plan it accordingly; he couldn't mess this up. He'd already been blind to Purple's affections for over a hundred cycles, and he couldn't afford to ruin anything further. Did Purple know it was a date? Had he suspected anything? Red hated how emotionless and taciturn his world became as soon as Purple left him, everything he despised and pushed away flooding back into his psyche and bogging him down in a familiar swamp of depression. He was left to his thoughts without anyone to interrupt with snide remarks or ridiculous jokes and it just felt…off. It made him feel too real.

A janitorial drone dropped her broom nearby, the hollow sound rocketing Red back into the present, and forcing an emotion to emerge in him that he hadn't felt for anyone in a long while; authentic, unrestrained panic. He was in charge of planning a date for not just his partner, but his picky, whiny, finicky best friend. If he did one thing that Purple didn't like or forgot something that he had told Red Irk knows when in the past, there would be tidal waves of immature pouting and lectures over how Red never listens. And this just wasn't any date; it was their first date as a new couple. Every detail had to be perfect and go off without a hitch and that's what flustered Red the most. He still didn't know exactly what he was doing, or what Purple would even want, but he knew it had to be as showy as his partner's extravagant personality. What had he done?! He only had an hour! An _hour_ to put together this whole thing and make it spectacular! Why hadn't he given himself more time?! Red hated the feeling of being rushed and always made stupid little mistakes when he let himself become rattled. He needed help; he couldn't put all of this together on his own. Red spun around and frantically tried to formulate a plan of attack, completely at a loss of where he should even start. He needed to calm down and think about this strategically. He was going into battle and Purple was his target hidden miles behind enemy lines, so he would have to be sneaky. He would need capable reinforcements to do the dirty work without letting them know what their top-secret mission was, guiding them as his puppets through this minefield of a relationship he'd so lovingly gotten himself into. If anyone found out his true motives, it would compromise Red's entire objective and everything would blow up in his face…and Purple's. But who could he find to do that? Who would be dumb enough to act on impulse without speculating anything?

The janitorial drone sighed and stooped to pick up her broom, leaping with a startled scream when Red threw a finger in her direction.

Brainless and revolting. She would have to do. "You! Janitorial Drone!" Red motioned her over, watching her trip over her chunky work boots as she scrambled to comply. "I have an important mission for you."

The little drone clutched excitedly at her broom, going white knuckled in anticipation at having been noticed by her esteemed leader. "A mission? From my Tallest!?" Her massive ruby eyes sparkled with pride as she grinned up at him, drawing in heavy wheezing breaths of eagerness.

Red sneered at her lack of height and the horrid goopy substance that dripped from the bottom of her filthy jacket. "Yeah…" he took a step back, putting more distance between them when he caught wind of her nauseating stench. "Listen very carefully and there may be a promotion in your future." His promise was manipulative and empty, but it got the drone's attention, her expression changing to one of serious contemplation. "I'm giving you permission to go to my private quarters to find something very important. In the cabinet next to Tallest Purple's bed you'll find a stack of films."

The drone bit her tongue in determination, her antennae stiff as she absorbed every ounce of information. "Stack of films. Yes, sir."

"I want you to find the one written in Earth speech." Red explained slowly and carefully, drawing out his words and hoping the unintelligent drone understood the importance of her mission. They had one shot at getting this right.

She furrowed her brow with a puzzled frown, cocking her head cluelessly. "What's an Earth, sir? I don't think my PAK is coded to read Earth."

"Not _an_ Earth! Earth_ speech_! As in the language?" Red groaned. Of all the times for the universe to test him, why now? He thought back to the cover of the film that they had received in a care package from an incompetent Irken long ago for some unknown Earth holiday. Regrettably, Purple had enjoyed it and decided to keep it. "Look for the film with the weird pointy tower on the front." He ran over the image in his mind, forming a triangle with his fingers as the drome watched in wonder. "The tower is covered in white fluffy stuff. The sky is blue. You can't miss it."

The drone made a noise like she understood, thinking hard to burn the strange image into her mind. "White fluffy stuff? A blue sky? Sounds so strange!" Her smile widened, growing more excited by the second. "I won't let you down, sir!"

"Good. Go find it and bring it to the Holodeck. A projection engineer will be waiting for you there." Red ordered firmly, fiddling with his wrist gauntlet and popping it open before hunting for the right extension to call. "You have ten minutes. No, five."

The drone made a peep and gave a frantic salute, scurrying off clumsily to fulfill her task, hopefully, on time. Fuck, there was still so much to do and not enough time to do it. Red needed to alert the Holodeck crew to his arrival and call the catering staff. He already knew what Purple wanted to eat, but Shloogorgh's was millions of lightyears away on Foodcourtia. It might be possible for someone to use illegal jump codes to get there faster if they were in a ship with powerful enough thrusters, and they had already missed the lunch rush, so theoretically it would be possible to order and make it back in under thirty minutes. It would be close, but it would have to do. Should he send for wine? No. No alcohol this time. Red wanted both of them to keep their wits and simply enjoy each other without the threat of Purple bursting out in constant inebriated laughter or getting in fist fights with his own reflection. Hm, what else was there to do? Wasn't he forgetting something? Oh no. Red reached up and smacked himself in the face, sinking when he realized he'd neglected one of the oldest, most important aspects of universal dating. He would need something to wear. After telling Purple to wear something other than his uniform, there was no way Red could show up in his without him pitching a fit, and rightfully so. But, unlike Purple, Red didn't keep civilian clothes on the Massive, opting to leave them on Irk for when they returned to their suite in the Tallest Tower. They were unnecessary and served little purpose for his job on the ship, or so he had thought. Now he was silently kicking himself for not going out shopping with Purple the hundreds of times they had docked on Devastis, wishing he had given in to Purple's incessant begging to join him. All he had were a few old breastplates, a small Elite uniform he had been too sentimental to let go of, and the crisp suit he wore for talks with leaders where his regular uniform may come off as too intimidating. Red blinked. He vaguely remembered Purple always pointing out how wonderful he looked in his jacket before their annual talks with the Intergalactic Board of Empires, not that they went anymore since the initiation of Operation Impending Doom II and their destruction of most of the empires in attendance. That could work…if it still fit.

"Stop!" Red called down the corridor after the frantic janitor, catching her before she disappeared. She spun without question before instantaneously sprinting back, staring up at her leader as she panted, as obedient as ever. "Do you remember the suit I used to wear when our Empire was still part of the IBE?"

The drone scrunched up her face and hummed as she ran through her PAK memories, wiping her messy gloved hands on the front of her jacket. "Forgive me, my Tallest, but I'm only a janitorial drone. I don't have my own transmitter so I couldn't watch the IBE talks. I only read about them after they happened." She shrunk back with a painful wince, waiting to be scolded.

Red didn't have time to be angry. He leaned ominously over her, making sure he had her undivided attention. "I need you to get it for me when you get the film. Double breasted red jacket, plain black slacks, black knee-high boots." He counted off each item on his fingers, drilling the information into the little drone and hoping it would stick. "Repeat what I just said."

"Red jacket, black pants, black boots."

"Good enough."

* * *

Purple had unenthusiastically settled Lard Nar in with the other Vortians in the translation team, wary when he noticed them take an immediate liking to each other and strike up casual hushed conversations over their monitors. He still wasn't sure this plan would work or if Lard Nar could be trusted with Irken equipment. Pem had been instructed to stay with him and follow wherever Lard Nar went, regardless of his apprehensions, and was to secretly take notes on Lard Nar's progress to ensure he stayed on track with his mission. When Lard Nar ate, Pem would eat. When Lard Nar would sleep, Pem would sleep. As repulsed as the conversion specialist had been, he had even agreed to be present for Lard Nar's bathing, sacrificing what little dignity he had left for the better of the Empire and the safety of his Tallest. Purple wished he had a thousand Irkens as dutiful and obedient as Pem; maybe then the Empire would run a little smoother and things would go the way he wanted without so many mindless questions.

Despite the grueling stress of the past six hours, Purple had quickly made his way back to his quarters, breathing in the stale, cool air of the place he and Red called home. He would be lying if he said he hadn't missed the familiarity of it, but it was still as boring and dull as he remembered. Same boring furniture, same boring layout, same boring view of the same boring galaxy outside. But, that wasn't what concerned him. What put the butterflies in his spooch was the jaded, cynical Irken he now called his lover. Purple was almost positive Red was planning a date but had decided to play dumb and let him take the lead, interested to see how far he would take this whole endeavor and what he could possibly be planning in the Holodeck. Whatever it was, it had better be worth it.

Red never did things like this. Before they were together, he had rarely given Purple the time of day besides the occasional half-hearted emotional reassurance or to fight him about Irk knows what struck his fancy in the moment. Red was manipulative and liked to fight. He wasn't the gushy, romantic type and struggled with affection, his love usually coming off as painful elbowing or overly logical criticisms and the occasional reader thrown heatedly in Purple's direction, even if he would miss on purpose. Red had shoved him, screamed at him, and even spit on him once, but had _never_ hit him. He knew better than to throw himself into that rabbit hole. He would most definitely lose. If anything, it would be Purple who would beat down on Red if he saw fit. They would take out their anger on one another, forgoing throwing punches in exchange for playful light pushes and ferocious curses, and Red was lucky Purple loved him at all after some of the nasty things he'd said in the past. Still, despite how mean Red could be, he was gentle and loving at his center, something only Purple was allowed to see when they were alone together. He had always been there for Purple when he needed him most and had shared in his deepest, happiest memories as the one Irken he could never live without. His temper had gotten better as they got older, to the point that he had even reluctantly agreed to a few mandatory anger management sessions commissioned by the Control Brains. He'd since completed the required number of visits, but Purple always had to stop himself from laughing to this day when Red would do his corny little breathing exercises. At least he was trying to be better for them both, and Purple adored him for that.

Red had been drastically different since they had slept together, more compassionate even, submitting himself fully and openly to Purple in a way he didn't think he would ever be capable of. It only deepened the feelings Purple had for him, rounding them out and polishing them into a masterpiece they had painted together. He wanted the anger and ferocity Red had to give as equally as he wanted the sweetness and compassion he kept tucked away beneath the surface. They had been through literal hell together, multiple times now, and survived, their bond running deeper than the blood that coursed through their veins. So, why then, was Purple so worked up and nervous about something as simple as a first date?

Purple stared down at the outfits he had spread messily over his bed, mulling over which Red would like more, but unable to conclusively pin one down. Red had asked him to pick something that showcased who he was inside, but that was proving to be more difficult than he thought it would be. He was many things, so it was nearly impossible for one outfit to accurately describe the way he felt about himself. When the Massive was docked for routine repairs, Purple would venture out without Red and collect little civilian things he didn't need but enjoyed regardless, clothing among them, but had never worn them outside of his quarters. They were more impulse buys than anything, expensive patterns and textures he feared he'd never see again and scooped up to showcase his status and wealth to the paparazzi that followed him. In reality, they had been thrown haphazardly in the back of his closet away from the prying eyes of their maids, but now that he had been given permission to wear whatever he wanted, he was clueless to what that actually meant.

Purple crossed his arms over his chest and willed himself to make a decision. His mauve blazer from the IBE conference a few cycles ago? Maybe. Red was an old-school kind of guy, but he didn't want to come off as too formal and stuffy. Plus, Red had told him to wear something he liked, and Purple wanted to be comfortable. What about his dark high-necked thermals paired with one of his old mechanic's jackets? That had the potential to be cute, and sentimental, but it still didn't feel quite right. This was their first date; he didn't want to show up covered in old oil stains no matter how much he loved the stories behind them. Finally, there was the secret band tee he refused to let anyone but Red see. Red had bought it for him on Conventia when he was there to reveal a new combat mech to the military. Purple had been upset that he couldn't go see an Irken alternative band they both liked that was playing on the other side of the planet, and Red had gone out of his way to get his hands on some of their merchandise to surprise him, or maybe just shut up his constant whining. Purple would never dare wear this shirt in public, but he would often wear it around when he was alone doing mundane work or when the Massive passed a particularly hot star and he wanted to stay cool at night. Red had pointed out how dorky it made him look but never once asked him to take it off, hinting silently to Purple that he might actually like it. But, no, this still wasn't right either. Even if the sentimental value was there, if anyone else on the Massive saw him in it they would definitely begin to question his prowess as a leader and he was already on thin ice as it was.

Purple sighed and flopped face first onto the bed with a huff of defeat, feeling the mattress curl up around him. Why was this so hard? He hadn't even thought about shoes yet and he was wasting time. Red was expecting him in forty minutes now, and the ticking seconds seemed to laugh mockingly in Purple's face. He needed a second opinion but couldn't think of anyone he could turn to without betraying the confidentiality of their illegal relationship. He found himself wishing Kez was here to give her honest opinion. She was like his kind and he could trust that she wouldn't give him up or feed him bad ideas. Plus, when Purple had met her, her fashion sense had been impeccable so it was obvious that she would be a good candidate for fashion advice. Would it be weird if he called her? Would she even pick up? Duh, of course she would. He was her Tallest, she would be breaking a chief social rule if she _didn't_ pick up.

Purple rolled over onto his back, prying off his wrist gauntlet and popping open his communicator as he tried to remember the name of Teem's bar. The Smash? That sounded about right. He held his breath when he scrolled through the Naphrus 8 directory, landing on the extension to call Teem and Kez's personal line. Was he really going to ask a short food service drone for advice? Yes, yes he was. Purple pushed himself up and positioned his gauntlet on the bed before clicking the tiny line of code and waiting impatiently for a connection to be made. Please pick up.

Almost immediately, the familiar beep of a link sounded as a wide holographic screen was projected into the air, an ecstatic screech breaking the silence and dragging a much needed smile out of Purple. Kez fumbled to clumsily set up her transmitter on her coffee table before skipping back to her loveseat and flopping back down next to Teem, the two sharing a spoon and digging into a huge pint of chocolate ice cream.

"My Tallest!" Kez giggled a little too readily, earning an irritated shove from Teem. She cleared her throat and reeled back her excitement, trying not to sound too desperate for Purple's attention. "It's been too long! I miss you already, sir!"

It had only been six and a half hours. "Hello…" Purple gave a sheepish wave and Teem returned it with a half-smile, shoving another heaping spoonful of creamy deliciousness in her mouth before feeding one to Kez.

"Pardon me, sir, but we weren't expecting you to call so soon." Teem began, throwing her formality back up as she swallowed. "Have you forgotten something here that you need us to send? How is Tallest Red?"

Purple shifted uncomfortably, bringing his hands together and sitting back down on the edge of the bed. "Please, just call me Purple." He blinked when Teem and Kez exchanged an unsure look amongst themselves. "Really, it's ok. You're the only other Irkens like my kind I know, so I want us to be on a first name basis." He paused when the two ladies' nervous expressions lit up simultaneously as they leaned forward where they sat, interest renewed and teeming with life. "I didn't forget anything and Red is fine. I just…want your help with something."

"Sorry, si-…Purple. We unfortunately can't come to the Massive. We just popped off for a little icecream break. Gotta get back on the floor in twenty minutes for the dinner rush or this place will fall apart." Teem explained hastily with a thumbs up, trying to shut down what she thought was an attempt at recruitment.

Purple blinked and frowned. "Oh, no, I'm not trying to recruit you." This was odd. He hadn't been this informal with a civilian in cycles, let alone two. Was this even allowed for someone of his status? "I'm going to a special event tonight and I need a second opinion on what to wear."

Kez looked ready to combust at his words, squeaking again as her enthusiasm got the best of her and bubbled over with an over exaggerated grin, Teem silencing her by popping the spoon forcefully in her mouth and making her gag.

"What kind of event, exactly?" Teem cocked her head and stifled a chuckle when Kez half choked on the cold metal. "Why do you need our help? Don't you have an advisory team that picks out what you wear anyway?"

"Well," Purple averted his gaze back down to the three outfits he'd laid out, contemplating them again in his mind but still coming up short. "It's kind of a secret. Only Red and I know it's happening, and I can't tell anyone else because they wouldn't understand."

Kez forced Teem's hand away with a playful smack, wincing when the spoon collided with her teeth. "Oh. My. Irk." She gasped, letting her jaw drop in a mixture of shock and smeet-like delight, her pink eyes set ablaze by her irresistible need to gossip. "You're going on a date, aren't you? AREN'T YOU?!"

Purple flattened his antennae at the abrupt change of pitch, reaching forward and dialing back the volume on his gauntlet before anyone heard them. Geez, Kez was a loose cannon. He bit his lip in a weak attempt to fight off a smile, embarrassed when he felt an insipid rush of color flood to his cheeks. "I think so. Red didn't tell me much but-"

Another piercing scream broke the silence, this time resounding form both Kez _and_ Teem as they clutched excitedly at each other. Purple felt like he was on one of those weird Meekrobian teen dramas as the girls continued to blubber and fawn over him from Irk.

"Holy shit he actually asked you on a date?!" Teem exclaimed, almost letting the frozen tub slip from her fingers as she pushed back off of her mate. "I thought you guys were just playing around and messing with us but you're actually together? No kidding?"

"No kidding." Purple finally submitted to the toothy smile that officially solidified his answer.

Teem threw her head back and gave a haughty laugh. "I totally called it with that boy! Don't worry, Kez and I won't say a thing! This is so exciting to have not one but _two_ Almighty Tallest like us!" She bounced in her seat and squeaked ecstatically through her teeth. "Oh honey, we need to compare notes, ex-girlfriend to boyfriend! Does Red still do the thing when he gets nervous where he clicks his nails on literally everything?"

Purple leaned in with a nod, easing completely into the conversation and eager to complain about his partner. "Irk, yes! It drives me insane, and he always gets upset when I point it out because he doesn't think he's actually doing it. You know what else drives me crazy? When he comes home at the end of the day and throws his armor all over the place. I've gotten up in the middle of the night and tripped before and he still refuses to hang it up where it goes."

Teem rolled her eyes with an understanding nod. "Tell me about it! I've never understood how someone so formal and rigid could be such a slob. He'd come to my office back at the airbase and just throw his jacket on the floor like he owned the place." Her eyes widened as she scooted closer to the screen, putting on a matter-of-fact tone. "This wasn't even after hours, mind you. This was during the day when I would have to speak to cadets. Do you know how much of a pig that made _me_ look like having my boyfriend throw his shit everywhere? I'm just glad he's your problem now."

Purple chuckled at the image of Teem laying in to Red for his carelessness, unconsciously glancing at the time that flashed on his gauntlet before swallowing. Red was going to become his problem pretty soon if he didn't make a decision and get going to the Holodeck.

"I'd love to stay and complain about Red, believe me, we could spend hours talking about how awful he is, but I really need to make a decision before I'm late."

Kez nodded and gripped Teem's knee. "Oh! Ok!" She squinted at the screen, straining to see what Purple had picked but shrugging in frustration when she couldn't quite make anything out. "Can you pick up the transmitter and show us what you're thinking?"

Purple nodded, reaching for the screen before standing, carefully positioning his two friends over the bed so they could have a better look. Almost immediately, Teem tutted her tongue at his blazer, crossing her arms and sinking deeper into her loveseat as she scraped at the bottom of the pint with her spoon.

"No way. You cannot show up in _that_."

"Which one?"

"The blazer. We both know Red; he'll show up in one of his own and expect you to do the same. You can't be predictable; it'll give him the satisfaction and make things boring. You need to shock him by giving him something he would never expect."

Purple threw his free hand on his hip and listened carefully as Kez gave a concentrated mumble of agreement, whispering something to her wife who squinted back at the screen with a curt nod. Shock Red? Wouldn't that just irritate him? Purple tried to imagine what it would feel like to walk into the Holodeck and render Red completely speechless, reducing him to nothing on his looks alone. The thought almost took Purple's breath away, the image of Red a sputtering, clumsy mess for him was almost too much to handle. He wanted that. He wanted to be the very object that Red coveted over all others and bowed to. Mm. Bowing would be very nice.

"I think you should do the band tee. It's kinda rebellious in an understated way." Kez said slowly with a point, eyes darting discerningly between their options. "I don't know you or Tallest Red all that well yet, but I know that would be totally adorable on your figure with that mechanic's jacket."

"Ooh yeah!" Teem piped up, slinging her arm over the back of her loveseat. "That color would really bring out your eyes. And Chasing Cobalt is a great band too. We play their old stuff in the bar all the time."

Kez peeked into the empty pint, disappointed when she saw Teem had taken the last bite. "Did you hear they just released a new album? Everyone who's reviewed it absolutely hates it."

"Maybe we could use it to scare off those assholes who always start fights with the bouncer."

"That might be fun."

"Hey, pay attention!" Purple snapped, turning the screen back to eye his new friends skeptically and scrambling to restore their flighty attention spans. "Isn't that too informal for someone my age? What if someone sees me?"

Teem shoved the now empty pint aside and crossed her legs, raising a brow. "So what if they do? You're Tallest, not them, and you can do whatever you want. If I saw my Tallest walking around in a Chasing Cobalt shirt, I'd think you were the coolest leader in the galaxy." She cracked her knuckles and hopped up, encouraging Kez to follow and rolling her eyes when she didn't. "Anyway, you picked that shirt, so a part of you knows Red will like it. If you do end up going with it, definitely wear the jacket over it and pair it with plain black leggings and a black ankle boot with a short heel. Anything fancier will ruin the casual feel you're going for and throw off the balance for the whole thing."

Teem dipped off screen for a few moments, rustling and banging around while Kez flashed Purple a reassuring smile to qualm whatever reservations he still held. "We have to get back to work soon." She mumbled, almost disappointed they couldn't spend more time together. "Will you call us later and tell us how everything went? I'm gonna want details!"

Purple blinked, surprised that they actually wanted to talk again. They wanted to talk to _him_, not to the Tallest or the rank. He actually had friends besides Red for the first time since…well….since before he could remember, who weren't terrified of his leadership position. Having them around felt nice and warm, a welcome comfort in the cold reaches of space.

"Wait," he wanted to reach out, remembering they were millions of lightyears away on Irk. "Before you go, be completely honest with me…do you _really_ think he'll like it?"

Teem poked back into the frame and gave a sympathetic sigh. "Let me tell you something, Purple. As much as Red says he hates the counter-culture, he used to hang out in bars and music halls when he was on leave all the time. He practically lived in them." She looked Purple over, lazily dragging her bright ruby gaze over his form before grinning warmly. "You already have that rebellious air to you; trust me, I would know. Knowing him, that's probably one of the things he likes best about you. If you can bring that out in the way you look, even if it's just for tonight, he'll fall in love with you all over again." She laughed, her eyes alight with genuine compassion and something that made Purple feel whole and confident. "Now finish up and get going. He'll bitch if you're late."

Purple concealed a sudden giggle with a hand, glancing to the floor before turning back to the screen. "Thanks."

"No problem, honey. Be sure to take a picture and send it to us! See you soon."

"See you."

The communicator sputtered off and Purple tossed it back to the bed, wanting nothing more than to yell out his renewed excitement and jittery nerves to the cold vacuum of the universe outside. Teem and Kez had been of greater help than he had originally thought they would, but there was still a part of him that felt absolutely petrified to face whatever Red was secretly plotting for them a few decks up. Purple swallowed nervously and took a deep breath, reaching up with shaky hands and slowly unhooking the clasps of his breastplate, tugging it off and rolling the stiffness from his shoulders before setting to work on his tight corset and robes. What would Red be wearing? Hopefully he didn't cheap out and wear his uniform. Purple was stepping pretty far out of his comfort zone with this one, so if he showed up and Red was wearing what he usually was he was going to pitch a fit and leave. Purple coughed when he finally popped his corset free, relishing in the feeling of being able to move freely again without crushing every organ in his body. But, what if this plan backfired? What if Red hated his new look? Would he even say anything or would he grin and bear it? Purple ran his hands up over his eyes and groaned to himself, clenching his teeth and getting lost in a vicious downward cycle of self-doubt and uncertainty. He always ended up here, torturing himself by dramatically overthinking everything he did, at least when it came to Red. The guy was just so damn complicated and unpredictable! How was Purple supposed to know what he wanted when he was constantly changing his mind anyway?

After hastily tugging everything on, Purple was terrified to look himself in the mirror. He'd rooted around in his closet for a solid ten minutes trying to figure out what shoes to wear, going back and forth with himself before finally taking Teem's advice and settling on a set of high-priced Plookesian made ankle boots. Everything felt alright. It moved well, it breathed well, and it wouldn't be distracting throughout the course of the night. He hadn't worn the boots in a while, but they didn't feel like they would be all that bothersome. But…did it _look_ alright? Purple had been staring at the wall across from his mirror for a while with his back turned, arms crossed and heel clicking incessantly against the hard floor, trying to work up the courage to turn around and see what train wreck his new lady friends had told him to piece together. Come on, you're an adult, just suck it up and do it before you're late! A Tallest can't be defeated by something as trivial as clothing!

Purple held his breath and squeezed his eyes shut, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his violet jacket before forcing himself to turn. Ok. You can do this. If you hate it, you can change and go with one of your backups. And if you hate those you can just wear your uniform and tell Red you ran out of time on the way back from the Translation Bay. Purple exhaled slowly and took another deep inhale, gradually opening his eyes before catching sight of himself in the mirror. What he saw was unexpected. Huh. He leisurely looked himself from head to toe, pulling his hands free from his pockets and smoothing over the coarse fabric. This…wasn't all that bad. He frowned and turned to the side, admiring how the deep purple of his jacket contrasted with the washed-out grey of his oversized t-shirt. Teem and Kez were right; it was understated and simple but had an undeniable edge to it that made Purple look like he was ready to march against the system and flip a few bar tables. He felt his pulse escalate with a sudden surge of excitement, a ridiculous grin forming on his face as his inhibitions dissolved into his newfound confidence. This look was a combination of everything he loved all rolled into one, but he never thought he would have the frame to actually pull something like this off. After scrutinizing himself for a few more hasty seconds, Purple pulled back from the mirror and got an idea. He tugged inquisitively at the hem of his shirt and loosely tucked it in his waistband, recreating the new trend he'd seen a young pilot rocking on his days off in the mess hall. This was it. Everything finally felt right. Absolute, amazing, outstanding perfection!

"Damn," Purple giggled to himself, turning once more to admire his new look from the back, "I look _hot_!"

Hopefully his idiot of a partner thought the same. Time to find out.

* * *

Part one of date night done! I was going to post it as one massive chapter but it was gonna end up being like 30.000 words and that's a ridiculous word count for one chapter, so I'm splitting it up in two. I will be posting the other half sometime tomorrow on September 24-25 depending on where you are in the world. Stay tuned and reviews are always appreciated, loves! Danke!


	13. Kissing in Paris (Sorta)

Here we go, part two as promised! Have fun! Also thank you to **DeadMechWalking** for adding this fic to your favorite's list! You rock, love!

**Chapter rated a soft M for brief heavy language, adult themes, and mentions of sexual content.**

* * *

Purple hastily zipped up the front of his jacket to conceal his shirt from the public and made his way to the door, hesitating a moment. He still had time to change and play things safe. Ugh, no, this was his chance to be himself with Red and he wasn't going to screw it up. He shook the lingering thought from his mind, flipping off the lights and throwing the hatch open, tentatively glancing through the doorway and down the corridor before stepping through. He resealed the door with a click and quickly shoved his hands back in his jacket pockets, turning to head off and immediately spotting a guide showing new recruits through the hallway, chatting lightly about the history of the Massive as he went. Dammit, just his luck! Purple froze in mortification as the guide made eye contact and stopped in his tracks, looking over his leader with an unsettled gawk when he noticed he was out of uniform. He sputtered and turned back to the rest of the group, hoping Purple hadn't seen the expression he'd so rudely forced upon him out of compulsion.

"A-ah! And we meet our esteemed leader, Almighty Tallest Purple! Everyone please be on your best behavior!" The guide clapped his hands together and spun back around with a nervous grin, visibly sweating and terrified to be reprimanded.

Purple felt brazenly exposed as the fresh faces looked him over, as if they were judging him with varying levels of interest. Suddenly, a nasally voice piped up from somewhere in the thick cluster.

"Sir, are you going to the docks to greet the new aerospace mechanics?"

Thank Irk there was a way out of this after all. Purple flashed the huddle of short young faces a smile and thought fast, lying through the thick atmosphere that poured over them. "Why, yes!" He leaned forward on his toes, amused when the group mimicked his movements. "We all thought it would be a good time if I wore my old jacket as a morale booster to welcome them to the team." The lie was flimsy at best, but Purple hoped it would stick.

There was a brief moment of silence followed by a sudden uproar of excited gossip and accepting nods. Purple let himself breathe again, thankful to the stars that the new round of recruits was so gullible and inexperienced. Suddenly, Teem's words echoed back through his thoughts, giving him another round of confidence to push past the crowd and make his way up deck.

_You're Tallest, they're not_.

It didn't matter what anyone else said anymore. Purple was in charge and he projected it out like a knife, slicing through the confused gapes and entranced stares he received the entire way to the Holodeck. He wasn't dressed this way for his subjects, he was dressed this way for himself and his partner, and that's what mattered.

Purple had forgotten his communicator on his bed and wasn't even sure what time it was when he finally reached the Holodeck. He made a final halfhearted attempt to make sure he was completely alone before unzipping his jacket and fussing over himself again, ensuring everything was to his liking before tentatively reaching out and knocking on the door to the main office. No response. Odd. He frowned and knocked again, harder this time, hearing someone bark a muffled order. The door swung open without warning and a team of horrified scientists and technicians poured out, scrambling over one another and tripping over their own clumsy feet. The head holotechnician almost collided with Purple, forcing him to take a step back before saluting respectfully.

"My Tallest!" He began, puffing out his chest. "Tallest Red has requested that I lock the door behind you, sir. I hope that you find the holochamber to your liking and useful to your development of new military training programs."

So, that's what Red told them this was all about. Purple had secretly wondered how he was going to pull off shoeing away an entire team of devout scientists, but it seemed to do the trick. He nodded wordlessly to the acquiescent technician and stepped through the doorway into the main office, hearing the door click and latch behind him. The fluttering, weightless feeling in his spooch crept back in as Purple made his way around the atrocious mess the scientists had left behind. They practically lived in here, old food wrappers littering seas of papers and broken bits of unknown technology. He made a mental note to get on their case about cleaning everything up after he and Red left but didn't want to think too hard about it now. The main door to the Holodeck stood ominously before him, daring him to step through and into Irk knows what Red had thrown together for them. Purple hurriedly looked himself over one last time, readjusting his shirt in a fervent attempt to preen himself for his mate, never feeling like it was enough but knowing he couldn't keep Red waiting either.

"Ok, Purple, you can do this." He breathed to himself, punching in the lock code in the panel to the left of the door. "It's just a date. You've already gone all the way with Red, so this should be nothing. Just calm down."

He heard the computer welcome him, popping the latch and fazing the door open, Purple's nerves peaking to new heights at the blinding metallic room before him. He tried to keep his gait steady and cool, holding himself high and shoving his hands back in his pockets, trying to make a good first impression and keep his false allure of mystery. As soon as he stepped through the hatch and felt his heels click against the cool metal of the Holodeck, he froze, completely transfixed and equally confused by what he saw. He hadn't been here in a long while, the thousands of ominous tiny screens flickering and buzzing at him from all angles were unnerving and irritating, but the sight in the center of the room was absolutely breathtaking in all the right ways. Red sat alone at a single table for two, the surface littered with an odd array of items Purple couldn't make out from a distance. Surprisingly, he'd actually put great effort into changing his appearance and Purple felt himself grow weak in the knees when he realized Red was wearing the crisp double-breasted suit he loved so much. It made him look taller, leaner, and held an authoritative air of power that any Irken would cower and bend to. But for Purple, he was a dream, a lucid fantasy come true before him that he almost couldn't accept as reality. How had someone so poised, so handsome, come to be his? He watched Red with shallow breaths as he fiddled with something in his lap, muttering to himself with a small scowl before squinting up at one of the dozens of cold monitors lacing the walls. He reached up, revealing a strange mechanical glove that concealed him to the elbow, admiring it for a moment before pointing resolutely at the screen and snapping his fingers with a proud smirk. The screen flashed to life at the wordless command, allowing Red to skillfully scroll through dozens of blurry images with the flick of his wrist, drawing them out of the screen with his fingers to form shaky, but solid, holographic objects in the air. His face lit up with a happiness that Purple rarely saw, a pure unabridged smile overtaking him as he snapped again, the monitor shutting down with a buzz. Purple jumped a little when Red shucked the glove and threw his hands in the air with a shout.

"Finally! He's gonna love this!" He laughed to himself, slumping back in his chair, victorious to something Purple could only speculate.

Red blinked and finally looked up from his unknown project, doing a frantic double take when he caught sight of Purple standing dumbfounded across the room, still mesmerized in the gorgeous allure of his pressed suit. With a yelp Red jumped up and pushed off of the table, accidentally scooting it a few inches and locking eyes with his partner, his jaw going slack when he noticed Purple's rebellious outfit. Purple couldn't look away, caught up in the steely crimson gaze that always seemed to captivate him and fog his mind, waiting for his partner to say something and swallowing his anxiety when he didn't. Red's expression was unreadable as he looked his mate over from the color slowly flooding up to stain his cheeks to his expensive boots and back again. Did he hate it? Red blinked again, taking in a breath to say something but exhaling when the words died on his lips, frozen in place by something Purple didn't quite understand.

Purple licked his lips, still locked in the bizarre staring contest the two were sharing. "Hey." He breathed, unsure if Red could hear him over the mechanical whine. Red still said nothing and Purple allowed himself a tiny frown. "Are you going to say hello or just stare at me all night?"

Red drew in a sharp gasp at the realization of how stupid he must look, taking a few hurried steps forward and finally closing the painful distance between them. Purple met him in the middle, feeling uncomfortable when he stopped a few feet away to look him over again, scrutinizing every detail of what he was wearing and making him feel small.

"You look amazing, Red. I've always had a thing for you in that suit."

Silence.

"What do you think?" Purple dug his hands deeper into the pockets of his jacket, desperate for anything to break the awful lingering tension between them. He spun to give Red a better look, flashing him a short-lived smile before letting his shoulders slump in disappointment. "Aw…you hate it don't you?" He knew this was a terrible idea.

Something broke as Red slowly shook his head, his voice coming out as a feather light whisper in stark contrast to his penetrating stare. "No. I love it."

"It's alright, I can go change-…wait, did you say you _love_ it?" Purple was ready to admit defeat but stopped himself short, feeling a rush of warmth spike between them at Red's unexpected compliment and it only grew with every step closer his partner took.

"Holy shit, Pur. It's awesome!" Red grinned, finally climbing out of his unintentional silent treatment to snake his hands up under Purple's jacket, stopping at his waist and feeling him through the soft fabric. "This is the most _you_ I think I've ever seen you look."

Purple let himself breathe again, giving an overexaggerated sigh of annoyance. "Geez, don't scare me like that, asshole!" He pouted, turning to the side and breaking free from Red's soft hold. "You have no idea how hard it was for me to pick something out, so you better appreciate it."

Red chuckled at the fire in his tone, reaching out and grabbing Purple by the lapel to pull him back in against his will. "Oh, I'm definitely appreciating it." He teased, earning an insolent glare. He paused, treading carefully over his words as his gaze softened. "Sorry I didn't say anything before. You caught me off guard with how…beautiful you are."

Purple rolled his eyes and gave Red a tiny smirk at the praise, folding into his touch when he felt his partner's claws digging lightly into his ribcage. "Beautiful? Don't you mean badass?" He leaned forward, excited that they were finally alone and away from the watchful eyes of the Massive's computer systems and itching to feel Red's lips moving against his.

Red followed his lead. "Oh sorry, you're right, you look _badass_. Totally scared me with that lame band shirt when you walked in." He corrected with an affectionate taunt, moving up to place a gentle palm against his partner's cheek.

Purple ignored the insult and returned his grin, letting his eyes flutter shut with a warm sigh before reaching up and cupping a free hand over his lover's. His antennae twitched and drew forward longingly as the scent of Red's rich spiced cologne bombarded him and clouded the world around them to everything but the gorgeous, trancelike moment they were waltzing into. They hadn't been able to touch, _really_ touch, since they had left Naphrus behind on their home planet, and the ardent, gooey sensation of being held by Red's strong hands was otherworldly against Purple's skin. He needed Red like he needed to breathe, tightening around his hand when he threatened to pull back but needing more than just his fingertips.

"Don't make me wait." Purple whispered expectantly, eyes still closed and longing to be overcome by Red's hypnotic power.

He shivered when he felt Red graze a thumb lightly over his lips, drawing out the cruel anticipation and sweet torture with a chuckle before leisurely leaning in and claiming what was rightfully his. Purple felt like he had rocketed through the roof, leaning a little too eagerly into Red's lips to hungrily deepen the kiss he had been craving since their departure from Irk. It felt different than the hasty exchange they shared earlier, instead fraught with passion and alight with a beautiful desire to never let go of the depth and profound fortitude they held when they were together. He followed Red's lead, giggling when he felt his partner move against him and tasting his sweet breath, capturing him completely in his heat. Purple smiled against Red's touch when the same worn out mantra he had come to adore crept back into his thoughts; together…they were meant to be together. It was a vivid reassurance in a vile universe filled with misunderstanding and unjustified discrimination against their kind. But enough of that now. In this moment, they were completely safe, hidden behind literal locked doors and reinforced steel and the gentle touch of one another. Not even the domineering stare of the Control Brains could penetrate here, leaving the two at the wonderful mercy of each other and only each other to become lost and explore.

Purple pulled away first, hearing Red huff in dissatisfaction but tugged him into a tight embrace, not yet ready to let go out of fear that their time here would be short lived.

"I love you." He mumbled into Red's shoulder, a fleeting ghost of a sound but the most satisfying melody he had ever brought himself to sing. Purple wanted to say it over and over, drill it into everyone he knew until they would never forget.

This time, much to Purple's surprise and pleasure, Red didn't hesitate before responding. "I know. I'm pretty great, aren't I?"

Purple couldn't help himself. He burst into a fit of laughter at his haughty reply and leaned back, more amused than upset that he had ruined the moment and relieved when he heard Red do the same. "Ok, I take it back. I _hate_ you." He giggled, nearly doubling over when Red reached out and took his hand.

"Didn't they teach you in the Academy that lying was wrong?" Red mused coyly, leading Purple across the room with a smile before letting go and pulling out a chair at the table.

Purple warmly submitted, eyeing Red playfully as he sat before turning his curious interest to what was spread before him. Two holovisors and two complete sets of mechanical gloves were laid out neatly as well as two empty mugs, a pot of hot liquid and an unknown bag of something dark and musky, an overturned DVD case, and a massive bag of greasy, diabetes-inducing junk food from Shloogorgh's Flavor Monster. Almost immediately and without thinking, Purple snatched at the bag, ripping it open and drinking in the viscous smell of fry oil and sodium that he loved so much. Red positioned himself across the table, amused when Purple began ravenously tearing through the crinkling paper and pulling out the mouth-watering value meal he so rarely got to indulge in.

Red leaned forward, trying to steal a peak. "There should be a side of live plooka there too." He reached out and grabbed for the bag, afraid Purple would take both their meals if given the chance.

Purple passed it over, popping his takeout container and shoving a handful of fries in his mouth, groaning at the fatty, salty goodness. "Red," He said in between chews, "You're the best boyfriend in the galaxy and the only Irken I know who would get me cheap fast food on a date."

Red worked off his dress gloves and laid them delicately to the side, opening his own container with a grin before taking a bite of his burger. "You can thank the fleet commander. I sent him all the way to Foodcourtia to make this happen."

Purple giggled and wiped his mouth on the back of his sleeve. "You mean you took a fleet battleship out of commission just for me?" He took another bite, completely smitten by Red's horrendous irresponsibility to the Armada. "That might be the most romantic thing you've ever done."

Red turned his attention back to his food, absentmindedly continuing their conversation as he spread a thick sauce over his fries. "Anything for you, baby."

Purple felt his pulse skip and threw an accusing finger over the table, making Red jump in his seat. "Nickname!" He yelled out ecstatically, his thrilled voice reverberating through the holochamber. "You just called me a cute couple's nickname and don't tell me you didn't because I totally heard it!"

At first, Red looked confused, scrunching up his face and cocking his head to the side, not realizing what had actually come out of his mouth. Then, the horrible awareness set in and he groaned in annoyance, averting his gaze as Purple practically flew over the table after him. "I-I didn't say anything." He growled, growing flustered when a demeaned blush splashed over his cheeks.

"Did to! I heard it! You called me _baby_!"

"Shut the fuck up. It just slipped out!"

"Oh, so you've been thinking it this whole time, too?"

"N-no!"

Purple couldn't contain himself, propping himself up on his elbows over the table as he watched Red bristle and flush under his loving scrutiny. "Come on, Red, don't be like that. I want you to call me cute things." He reached for a plastic fork, hastily unwrapping it and stabbing at his plooka, hoping to hear it scream and frowning when it didn't put up a fight. "It makes me feel good about myself and lets me know you want me. And, I don't wanna be _that_ guy, but this live plooka is kind of dead."

"Of course I want you, idiot." Red swallowed, urging himself to calm and taking the conversation change as a huge relief to his humiliation. "And that's weird. They must be slacking on their preparation lately. Is everything else ok?"

Purple nodded, opting to return to his burger instead with a giddy smile. Somehow he knew Red was secretly into cheesy nicknames somewhere deep inside that grouchy soul of his. This was definite progress, and Purple would take what he could get without forcing it further. It was nice; Red had finally stepped over the starting line of their relationship and was beginning to ever-so-slowly catch up to Purple miles down the path. Maybe even one day, Red would be able to rattle off little nicknames like they were nothing. Purple sighed blissfully at the tranquil thought, glancing down and taking another look at the weird mish-mosh of objects still littering the table, his childlike inquisitiveness suddenly returning.

"So, why the Holodeck?" He asked, eager to get to the crux of why they were actually here. "I know you didn't just bring me here for the disturbing atmosphere." He motioned to the unnerving number of screens caving in over them.

There was a sudden twinkle of mischievousness behind Red's lenses as he mulled over how to begin his explanation without giving away the surprise. "We'll get to that soon. But first I thought it would be fun to try something new for a change."

Purple blinked and watched as Red scooped up their mugs with a hum of delight and opened the small bag of dark musky smelling pouches. The smell was distinctive and invasive, bitter almost, but drew Purple in as if it were a magnet. He had seen that very same bag before but couldn't remember where, watching in sheer fascination as Red plucked two of the tiny pouches and stuffed one in each of their mugs. He frowned and turned the bag to the side, re-reading over the instructions he found there.

"I didn't know what water was, so I looked it up. We don't have any, but I think what I found will be still be pretty similar. Hopefully it still tastes ok." Red took the steaming pitcher of liquid delicately in his hands and poured it skillfully over each of their mugs, filling them almost to the brim and taking a deep inhale at the strange smell that clouded the room.

"What is it?" Purple asked in captivation, watching the clear liquid turn to a deep heavy black on contact. He glanced back to the bag, in awe of the magic he was witnessing. "Instant coffee?"

Red gingerly scooted him his mug, careful not to spill the piping hot liquid before taking his own and relishing in the comforting warmth. "I sent a janitorial drone to our room before you got back to get a few things. When she looked through your nightstand she found this and brought it back with her." He held up his mug and urged Purple to do the same. "It's from that weird gift package Zim sent us from Earth. Apparently, if I remember, the human race runs on coffee and we've never tried it. That's what couples do on dates, right? Try new things?"

"Oh. I guess." Purple stared down at his mug, growing apprehensive and a little reluctant to try the exotic liquid. "I didn't know they ran on fuel." He carefully reached out and took the mug, the feeling of uplifting heat spreading up his fingertips to his core and reassuring him that something that felt this nice probably tasted amazing. He smiled. "Let's do a countdown! You start."

Red's eyes lit up. "Three…"

"Two…"

"One!"

Simultaneously the two brought the mugs to their lips, sharing in a new and thrilling tasting adventure. Well…not quite thrilling. Almost immediately, Purple slammed his cup down and coughed, sticking his tongue out with a disgusted cry at how absolutely sickening the drink was. He spat a few times to the side, trying to get the horrendous taste out of his mouth to little avail, feeling it overpower his senses with bitter, pungent assaults on his taste buds. Red, on the other hand, continued to drink, savoring the taste before calmly drawing back and evaluating it with an almost scientific interest. He held back a laugh when Purple wiped furiously at his mouth, working himself up into an immature frenzy.

"Huh, it's not as bad as I thought it would be." Red pointed out mockingly, taking another sip. "I kinda like it."

"Were you dropped on your head as a smeet?" Purple cried, shoveling food into his mouth in a desperate attempt to rid himself of the foul taste. "It tastes _terrible_!"

Red exhaled, lost in the warmth of the coffee and enjoying the bitter aftertaste it brought him. "It's not terrible. You just don't have refined enough taste to enjoy it." He chided, setting the mug down for good and pushing himself up with a sudden grin. "Anyway, you ready for the big surprise?"

Purple sneered in his direction, crossing his arms firmly over his chest and eyeing him in heavy suspicion. He shot another look at the atrocity Red had forced him to try. "No. I don't wanna know what else you have planned after something that bad."

Red tried not to look hurt, glancing down to his boots then nodding to something on the table. "Come on, I worked really hard to get this right. Why don't you take a look at the DVD?" He suggested, hoping that everything ran smoothly from here on out and all his arduous work from the past hour went off without a hitch.

Reluctantly, Purple rolled his eyes and snatched at the plastic case, flipping it over with a surprised blink when he realized what it was. "Wait…this is also from that gift package Zim sent us." He breathed, turning the case over in his hands in amazement, surprised that someone as callous as Red would even consider a film as sweet and romantic as this. "'Kissing in Paris'…Are we gonna watch this together through the Holodeck? But you hate this movie."

Red's grin softened to a loving smile and he reached out expectantly, happy when Purple took his hands before hoisting him up. He held tight and Purple noticed he was sweating, his nerves finally oozing to the surface as he struggled with how to begin. He took a deep breath and started a moving, carefully prepared speech that swept Purple off of his feet and made him fall in love with Red all over again.

"Purple," Red began, staring down at their entwined fingers and fighting off his unfounded worries, "I'm not good with emotions and I know you know that. But ever since we slept together, I felt like we skipped all of the other incredible firsts that come with dating, and I feel like you deserve to have them. I was too scared earlier to explicitly ask you to come on this date with me, but here you are, and I couldn't be happier." He paused to take a breath, looking up and locking eyes with his partner, an uncharacteristic but beautiful venerability clouding Red's better judgement as he continued. "I'm a mess. I'm angry, and jaded, and I always say the wrong things. I wish I could be perfect for you like those stupid romantic clichés from your movies, but I'm not a prince or a perfect boyfriend or even a perfect leader. I'm just an Irken with a bad temper covered in ugly physical scars and even deeper emotional ones."

"Are you proposing to me?!" Purple stuttered, feeling his excitement spike, but immediately fall when Red rolled his eyes.

"No, dumbass! I'm trying to tell you how I feel so don't ruin it!"

Purple reached up and stroked the side of Red's face with soft fingertips, the honesty and bravery of his words causing a torrent of emotion to rip through his PAK as he fought back happy tears. "Oh, Red, you're already perfect to me." He sniffed and slung his arms around Red's shoulders, looking him over with sympathetic eyes and an unfathomable smile of unconditional affection. "Don't ever think your scars make you ugly, because I think they make you the most beautiful Irken I've ever met. Without our pain, we wouldn't be who we are today and I wouldn't have the chance to heal you. But," he paused, confused, "what does this have to do with the movie?"

Red held up a finger and shushed him, leaning in and stealing a light, lingering kiss. "Like I said, I'm not perfect and I never will be. But what if I told you I found a way to live a perfect fantasy for a while?"

Purple blinked, not sure if Red was serious and getting hung up on the saccharine, complex sentiments they were sharing. When had he become such a hopeless idealist? Purple rested his chin lightly on Red's shoulder and said nothing, a small inkling of a realization growing in the pit of his stomach as to what Red had done for him. But…this was all impossible. First Red dressed up in his favorite suit just to look nice for him, sent a fleet commander millions of miles for a three dollar meal, forced them to drink awful burnt liquid, and now….now he was hinting at the very fantasy Purple had been secretly chasing for cycles on end? And Red thought he wasn't a prince?

"I'm listening."

"Let me build a world for you." Red's breath was hot and comforting against Purple's skin, thawing him to the bone. "I want to show you how much I…" Red hesitated again, his hold on his partner tightening as though he would slip through his fingers and dissolve if he let go. "H-how much I…care about you."

Purple pulled back, searching furiously over Red's features, trying to break through his vague point and grasp the gravity of what he was suggesting. "What are you saying, Red? We're gonna live one of my favorite movies? How?"

Red laughed, his excitement finally getting the better of him as he gently pushed Purple away, gesturing back to the table and pointing out the holovisors with a wide, broken smile. "Virtual reality. The team and I only had time to build one scene, but I think I finally got it perfect!" He strode back over and grabbed the holovisors and gloves before heaving the table back a few feet. "We're gonna need the room. Man, I can't wait for you to see it, Pur, it's really cool!"

Purple was stunned speechless when Red motioned for him to tug off his jacket, taking it in his free hand and draping it carefully over the back of one of the chairs. He mumbled something under his breath that Purple didn't quite catch before gingerly taking his hands again.

"Ok, hang on, I think this pair is yours." Red ran his scrutinizing gaze over the gloves before slowly sliding them up over Purple's wrists and adjusting the clasps on the sides.

They were peculiar and heavy, but the sensation of the cold machinery against Purple's skin was strangely intimate. "What do these do?"

Red chuckled and slipped on his own pair, clenching his fists to make sure everything was in working order. "They'll help us play god."

"Eh?"

"You're so thick sometimes. We're gonna use them to build the virtual world around us. Don't worry, I'll show you."

Red held out a pair of thick-rimmed goggles and Purple tentatively took them, flipping them and staring down at the two small screens enveloping the eyepiece. He furrowed his brow when he noticed a short, thick cord extending from one of the side straps, tipped with a fat connector.

"Sorry I keep asking so many questions, but what about this thing?" Purple asked, taking the cord and rolling it between his fingers. He had used a primitive form of holotechnology in the past when he was required to undergo flight simulations in the Academy, but had never used anything as advanced as 5D technology.

Red moved behind him, placing his hands on Purple's shoulders and running his cool gloved hands down his smooth skin. "It hooks into your PAK." He purred kindheartedly against his lover's antennae, surprisingly patient to his ignorance. "That way you can hear, smell, and feel everything too. May I?"

Holy shit this was actually happening! Red was taking him millions of lightyears away to Earth…to the city of Paris. A Paris without Zim that was only for them to enjoy and bask in the warm glow of the city lights. Purple didn't know much about the city outside of the film; it was a happy place full of strange music, good food, and revolutionary thinkers with vast minds and even bigger hearts. What would it be like to walk on the streets? Would it smell different? Feel different? Would the blue Earth sky be as gorgeous as Purple had fantasized? Purple hastily slipped the goggles on, adjusting them over his eyes and biting his lip with a smile. Goosebumps prickled over his skin when Red pressed a feather-light kiss to the back of his neck, submitting completely to his whims and anxious to see where they would lead. Purple couldn't see anything besides the occasional strobing light blinding him and making what little vision he retained blurry. He held his breath when Red popped the connection port on his PAK and fumbled with the connector, cursing under his breath when he couldn't seem to get it to fit.

"There's going to be a headrush, so don't be surprised." Red's confident whisper cut through the darkness. "When you get to where you're going, wait for me. I won't be far behind."

Purple felt Red force the connection and opened his mouth to say something, slamming it shut when an overpowering flood of data surged through his PAK and almost knocked him off his feet. It was dissociating and gelatinous, tugging at his bones and squeezing painfully at his temples as he felt part of himself being forcibly tugged from his skin. Dazzling lights flashed, sounds roared uncontrollably, temperatures bounced between smoldering and freezing. There was a horrid dizziness, followed by a sudden feeling of floating as Purple squeezed his eyes shut. He felt weightless, unable to reconnect with the ground he knew was still beneath his feet somehow, somewhere, but had drowned in the murky darkness he was drifting away through. Suddenly, as quickly as the bizarre feeling had come, it passed. Muted colors settled behind Purple's eyelids, sounds hushed and grinded to a muffled stop, and the feeling of a crisp, peaceful wind settled on his cheeks. He felt something solid connect with the soles of his feet and waited a few long moments before daring to move. He felt…different. _Smelled_ different. There was a hint of something sweet and intoxicating in the air as Purple worked up the courage to hesitantly peek at the world Red had pieced together for them both. He frowned as he took a hard look around, confused when he saw he was standing in an endless void of dark nothingness. A brief wave of panic rippled over him when he took a shaky step forward and heard his heel echo into the infinite blackness caving in around him. Something still wasn't right. He felt…fleshier. There was a strange undeniable squishiness to his form that definitely wasn't there before, almost like his body had redistributed and disfigured itself into something it wasn't. He took another step and found that his balance was completely off, most of his weight centered in the bottom half of his body. What the hell? Purple gradually diverted his gaze down and cried out in horror at the bizarre, alien form that stared back up at him. He was pale…and pink! In a frenzy he threw his hands out in front of him, his voice only escalating in terror when he noticed that he had not three, but _five_ fingers. His mechanical gloves were gone, as were his claws, replaced by well-rounded nails painted an obnoxious shade of glittering blue. He held them up in a mixture of near incoherent fascination and shock, wiggling his extra digits and wincing in uncertainty when he felt them. He…he _felt_ them. These were his. What had Red done to him? He glanced down again, admiring the insanely realistic texture of the simulation and feeling his terror subside to an intense, burning curiosity for his new temporary body. Everything about him was fuller and rounder; his hips, his thighs, his waist, and, much to his immediate displeasure, his chest. He curled his lip in disgust and poked at the strange lumps of flesh hanging off of him beneath his blue knee length, fluffy coat. He yelped and spun when something long and soft cascaded over his shoulder, nearly tripping himself in the baby blue pencil heels adorning his now petite feet. What was that? Who touched him!? Wait. He narrowed his eyes and flew up, snatching at the mess of silky golden curls framing his face before running his short fingers through them. They spiraled and bounced over his shoulders with little effort and smelled gorgeous and expensive, almost like vanilla. He tried to flick his antennae forward into the scent, straining to feel them but quickly noticing they too were missing. Oh, Irk, this was so weird! The realism of it was almost too much to handle!

"Red?" Purple called urgently through the darkness. At least he still sounded like himself.

There was a piercing ring from somewhere in the distance, followed by a bright flash of light that blinded Purple's doey, almond shaped eyes. He blinked the glare from his vision and froze when he caught sight of a tall figure approaching through the shadows. The figure was also alien with broad shoulders and long willowy limbs. His skin was dark, and his lips were full and plump, his black curly hair neatly combed to perfection. He too was dressed in a heavy, grey woolen coat with a thick knitted scarf pulled up around his neck. He was intimidating, but familiar, stalking forward with a stretch and a pop to his neck. The figure approached with a toothy grin, towering a few feet above Purple's now diminutive form. He was taller?! How could a being be taller than the Tallest?! It simply wasn't possible! Purple was about to lash out at the mystery character when he noticed something about his eyes that made him freeze; a familiar, deep crimson.

"Hey, Pur."

It was Red.

Purple wasn't sure if he should hug him or smack him hard across the face. "Red? What the hell did you do to us?!" He blubbered incoherently, looking his partner from head to toe and shuddered again at how disturbingly foreign he looked. "I don't even recognize you anymore! You're so…_ugly_!"

Red chuckled and Purple caught sight of his pearly, stout teeth. Even they were different. "Weird, right? I didn't have time to reprogram everything in the simulation itself, and it was faster to take the existing models of the actors from the film and use them instead." He doubled over and hooted with laugher. "Sorry I had to do that to you, but it was the only way to bring this all to life in time!"

Purple threw his hands on his hips, unnerved with how svelte they now felt. "Do what, exactly?"

Red clamped a fluffy mitten over his mouth and squeezed his eyes shut, hissing through his teeth and snorting through the weird pointed thing on his face. "Besides making you human?" He teased, ignoring Purple's painfully confused expression. "The two main characters in the film are male and female."

"Yeah, so?"

"They're married, Pur."

"I know, I've watched it a million times. What's your point?"

"So, which one do _I_ look like?"

Purple looked Red over again and raised an eyebrow, annoyed when his blonde wavy locks fell into his face. He brushed them back and shrugged. Red looked tall and masculine, but Purple couldn't remember the character's name. Even so, he was most definitely the husband. All at once Purple's eyes widened in horror at what that meant. He clenched his fists as his gaze flew back down to the strange, voluptuous chest flesh adorning his short hourglass figure. Soft frame, cute clothing…he reached up and ran his fingers over his full lips, smearing away a pale pink gloss. Makeup? Oh, Irk. He was the _wife_! A terrible rage ripped through Purple's tiny body and he flew forward, shoving Red hard on the shoulders and only growing more irate when he didn't budge under his soft hands. Red continued to laugh uncontrollably when Purple hit him again, taking the blow like it was nothing.

"You sadistic piece of shit! You made me a woman?!" Purple yelled, landing another feeble punch to the center of Red's holographic broad chest, gritting his teeth and growling out profanities as he fought. "I'm gonna kill you!"

Red dodged another punch as his partner-turned-human fell forward on his thin unstable heels, wobbling a bit before seething threateningly after him. "Come on, Pur, you look…decent?" He chuckled, putting his hands up in delighted defense as Purple tried to smack him across the jaw. "You've always been the cute one so it was just fitting that you would be cute here too. Well…as cute as a human can be, at least."

"Make me male again! I won't let you humiliate me this way!" Purple cried, latching on to Red's coat and trying to draw him down to meet his fiery gaze to little avail. It was almost as if he had lost his strength, and the height difference between them was infuriatingly demeaning.

Red took a deep breath and willed his laughter to subside, taking on a more serious tone. "Look, you're still you back in the Holodeck and all of this is temporary. This was all I could do in the time I had. If you don't wanna see the rest of it, I won't force you." He gave him a sly smile, as if to challenge him to take the offer anyway. "But I know you'll like it if you give it a chance."

"How can I like it if there's nothing even here?!" Purple snapped, throwing his arms out with another furious growl and feeling his voice crack under his distress.

Red leaned down and mockingly brushed a stray hair from his partner's round cheek, thoroughly enjoying the unintimidating pout he flashed up at him. "Just watch." He whispered before pulling back and moving a few feet away.

"Stop it, I don't want to play your games anymore, Red." Purple huffed, crossing his arms and grossing himself out at the feeling of his false chest squishing beneath them.

Red ignored him, pulling off his mittens and tossing them to the side. He thrust a finger above his head with a look of determination, squeezing his eyes shut and snapping his fingers. Immediately, the wordless command triggered something in the void, a bright, gorgeous expanse of pale blue raining down around them and stretching as far as Purple could see. He gasped, forgetting his qualms and frustrations as the sky lit up with the holographic images of tiny flying creatures, peeping and playfully chasing after one another high in the atmosphere Red had drawn with his fingers. Purple fought to stay upright on his heels, gawking up at the iridescent shimmer of light that danced above them.

"Woah, it actually worked." Red mumbled, staring down at his hands. "The team only had a chance to test this out with 3D, so I wasn't sure the 5D would do well with the programming." He squinted up at the sky, shielding his eyes to the glare. "Geez, that's bright."

"How on Irk did you do that?" Purple breathed, tiny mouth agape and violet eyes shining with wonder as he admired the breathtaking sight.

Red moved back, slinging an arm around Purple's petite shoulders as he appreciated his electronic handiwork. "We still have the gloves on." He looked down with an excited smile. "You ready to build…what was the name of it again? Paris? Or are you still mad at me?"

Purple shook his head with a smile, eagerly sticking his hands out in front of him and waiting for Red to show him what to do. They shared a giggle when Red positioned himself firmly behind his tiny partner, pressing his chest flush with Purple's back and snaking his strong arms around to take him by the elbows.

"The program runs off of cues," he explained quickly, "and it's designed to recognize thoughts you have in conjunction with things that are already written into it."

Purple blinked and glanced back, trying to process the new information. "So, what you're saying is I have to think about what I want in order to make it happen?"

Red nodded and readjusted himself when his scarf threatened to slip into his mouth. "Exactly. Everything is already built and coded, you just need to signal it to appear." He leaned down slightly, allowing Purple to nestle against him. "You've seen this movie hundreds of times, so close your eyes and think about the city. Think about the colors, the architecture, any little detail you can remember."

Purple took a deep breath and followed Red's instruction, arms still outstretched and supported by his partner's palms. He dug through his memories, drawing out any little detail he could remember about the enormous city. It was massive and winding, with archaic but heavily detailed architecture quite unlike anything he had seen on any other planet. There were strange trees dotted here and there and the streets were littered with bizarre earth vehicles that didn't seem to leave the ground. An odd pointy tower stood alongside what appeared to be a river of some unknown liquid where humans of all sizes gathered to take pictures of themselves, grinning and laughing together in a multitude of incomprehensible languages.

Purple solidified the image in his mind, leaning further into his partner with an exhale. "I see it…now what?" He whispered, feeling Red tighten his grip on his elbows, dragging his arms downwards to face the ground.

"Now hold the image and snap."

It was incredibly difficult to snap with five fingers and it took Purple a few tries to get it right. When he finally did, he slowly opened his eyes as Red guided his hands upwards, an entire world being pulled form the void beneath their feet with every movement. The ground shook and trembled, buildings creaked and groaned to life, each detail fanning out to add warmth and depth to the unbelievably vast image. Hard cobbled streets solidified beneath their feet, poles of light shot out of the ground, and a strange black creature with a tail sauntered along the sidewalk on a repeated loop. Other humans appeared one by one in the narrow ally, sprouting out of the concrete like daisies, each walking their mundane routes while chatting amongst themselves. Purple watched in awe when they would get so far and fade into nothing only to reappear at the beginning of their trek, following the same time loop over and over and trapped in their own vicious monotony. He didn't know where to look, his senses bombarded and overstimulated by the incredible sights, the loud sounds of vehicles honking and whizzing by to unknown destinations, and the smell of crisp but freezing winter air. He looked up and froze when he spotted the iconic pointed tower in the distance, a symbol of the gorgeous artistry of this wonderful Earth city, feeling tears well up in his eyes and slowly land on his cheeks as the gravity of what Red had given him finally sunk in. Red had built an entire world for them and them alone to cherish, a beautiful fantasy straight from the silver screen for them to experience together. Even if he was still furious about being the wife, Purple spun on his heel and beamed up at his partner's now deformed face, almost choking on a happy sob. Red had mentioned before that he would never be perfect, but Purple knew that was a total lie. He had achieved the impossible in an hour, remembering and peering into the deepest reaches of Purple's fantasies and painting them as an electronic masterpiece of bits of code and data. Even if none of this was real and they would have to go back to their stressful, mundane lives aboard the Massive, Red had given him a chance to feel what life could have been in a different time and place.

Purple took a small step forward, slowly growing accustomed to walking in his painful shoes, feeling the snow crunch softly beneath his feet. It was colder and more solid than he had imagined and didn't have much of a smell besides a twinge of crisp freshness. He stooped down, poking at the frigid substance and drawing back with an awed shiver at the glistening trace it left on his fingers. It was wet. He sniffed again and scrunched up his face, trying to hold back the dangerous flood of hot tears that threatened to overtake him. Red blinked and lowered himself down in front of his partner when Purple unexpectedly threw his hands over his face and broke down.

"You're crying?" His voice was laced with mounting concern as Purple began to sob. "D-Did I do something wrong?"

Purple ripped his hands away from his dirty, mascara streaked face and lunged forward without warning, colliding hard with Red and knocking him back to the ground with a yelp as his hands flew around him in a powerful embrace. He threw himself over his lover's chest and buried his nose into Red's scarf, squeezing his eyes shut as he cried faintly against him. Red didn't know what to do, startled and bewildered by the sudden turn of inexplicable emotion. He tentatively wrapped his arms around Purple's waist in return, running the length of his spine through his thick coat and swallowing thickly, growing uncomfortable.

Purple sniffed again, his overstimulated mind on the verge of shorting out. "W-Why?" He asked suddenly, the chilly wind of the city forcing him further into Red's warm hold.

Red ran his fingers up into Purple's hair, brushing it back to get a better look at his alien features. "Why what?"

"This, Red. Why did you do…_this_?" Purple pushed up, feeling his arms tremble when a single tear dripped from the tip of his nose and landed on Red's cheek. "I don't deserve any of this!"

A look of frustrated annoyance broke through the simulation as Red's familiar scowl reared up. He grumbled something under his breath and gently peeled Purple from his chest, standing and extending a harsh hand down to where his blubbering lover sat, dazed and confused.

"When will you stop tearing yourself down?" Red's voice was rough and scolding as he hoisted Purple up, catching him when he almost slipped. "I hate it when you talk like that. It's like you can't see how important you really are, and it pisses me off."

Purple shrunk back a bit at Red's admonishing tone, wiping his dripping nose on the back of his sleeve. "Y-You did this because you think I'm important?" He mumbled, already knowing the answer deep down but wanting Red to say it. He had seen the answer when they touched antennae, but Red still hadn't come out and explicitly told Purple what he felt in his own words. He didn't just want to hear it, he _needed_ to hear it. It still wasn't real until it came from Red's own mouth; it still felt one-sided.

"Why wouldn't you be?" Red threw his arms before him in exasperation. "I chose you. _Chose_ you, Purple. I could have had anyone I wanted, but I don't want anyone else! I made this world for you so you can see how special you really are to me and how much I-" He forced himself to a stop, choking on his words as his anger fizzled out to something Purple couldn't pin down.

"How much you what? Tell me." Purple whimpered as his voice quaked, staring up at him with glassy eyes. "Please…please tell me." His voice was barely a whisper, a mix of exhilaration and terrible gut-wrenching fear that he could still be rejected after everything they had been through. He had to know this was completely real. Had to know that Red wouldn't leave him.

Red remained silent, holding his lavender gaze from above as his jaw locked. He thought long and hard, watching Purple's trepidation ebb and flow with every lick of his lips and frantic blink he gave. Red sighed to himself and shook his head at the sorry sight of his partner unraveling in his own dispair, not out of disappointment or disgust but out of his own self-realization to what Purple had done to him. Red knew they would end up here like this as soon as he set in working on the program. He had loosely run over the conversation in his head, grasping for eloquent words and turns of phrase but never finding the right combination. He was still wrestling with his own feelings; those deep, nagging, beautiful thoughts that chipped away at his cold, callous personality and brought a searing warmth back into his life he never thought he would have. Red had chased that warmth for as long as he could remember, finding brief sparks in alcohol, drugs, and the mindless overindulgence and opulence that came with his status. But he could never hold it. It slipped away like smoke and eluded him at every corner, bounding just out of his reach with every blurred high and hazy late night bottle of liquor he pounded back. Eventually, he had given up, resigned to his lonely fate and moved on…or so he had thought. He had been terrified of his unexpected feelings for Purple at first, terrified of what that meant for his own mental health and future as Tallest. He had convinced himself that there was a distinction between his kind and Purple's, a sort of barrier that categorized them based on their capabilities to love and feel on the basis of biology. But now, Red knew he had been telling himself a disgusting, filthy lie. In the past twenty-four hours he'd gone through many epiphanies, but the greatest of was the dawning, lucid realization that somewhere deep in the reaches of his being, Red _needed_ Purple. There was no distinction between them, no barrier that kept them on opposite ends of the spectrum. Somehow, he _was_ Purple's kind, in an odd way, and he was finally coming to terms with what that meant. And he was finally ready.

"Say something, Red." Purple's pained whisper broke him out of his daze. "I-I need to know that this whole thing wasn't just an accident. That _we_ aren't an accident. I want to know that I wasn't just some conquest for you to take."

Red blinked at the excruciatingly painful words, gingerly cupping his partner's cheeks in his palms and drawing him up to meet his gaze. He knew Purple didn't really think that, but his fear that Red would eventually leave him was so great it was driving him mad with worry. He needed to fix this.

"I would never sleep with you for that. I did it because I wanted you, yes, but I also did it because I _needed_ you. We're not an accident, Purple, and this is real." He whispered back, his soft, reassuring smile breaking the friction and unbearable tension. Say it. You have to tell him. "And…I-I think I'm…um…I-I think…shit! Why is this so hard!?"

"Say it." Purple half commanded, half begged Red to finish his sentence, not letting him escape.

"Dammit!" Red took a sharp inhale and squeezed his eyes shut, throwing himself over the cliff of emotional stability he'd been hanging onto and desperately hoping Purple would catch him. "I think…I-I think…I'm in love with you!"

Red froze, half expecting Purple to scream out his response and knock him back to the frozen ground in a fit of delight but panicked when his partner burst into another round of uncontrollable crying, trying to speak but choking on his emotional outburst. He didn't have to say anything; Red could already hear every sweet thought of acceptance and snarky jab bouncing between them and setting them both alight with a raw purity neither one of them had felt since they were young.

_You bastard you made me cry…I waited cycles for you…you should have told me sooner…I love you too._

Purple threw his tiny arms out and Red immediately grabbed him with an ecstatic grin, feeling his own happy tears prick at the corners of his eyes as he hoisted him up by the waist and twirled him in the frozen street. Purple cried out in surprise, laughing through his tears and closing his eyes to the chilly air nipping at his rosy cheeks, leaning back in Red's dependable grip and tossing his hands in the air as they danced. Red loved him. _Really_ loved him. It was true, the same stupid words Purple had been whispering to himself ringing true with every warm kiss Red pressed to his neck; they were meant to be together. He threw his head back when the sound of Red's laughter joined his own, succumbing to the ethereal freedom that crashed over him like a waterfall and swept him further into the melodious sound of his lover's strong voice. Fingers froze, hot tears fell, passionate kisses and heartfelt sighs grazed foreign skin. When Red finally stopped, Purple reached up and tenderly wiped away his tears. These were only for him to see. No one else was allowed as close to Red's soul as he was.

"Did you figure it out?" Red piped up suddenly with another warmhearted chuckle, leaning into Purple's icy hands and refusing to let him go. "Which scene from the movie I chose?"

Purple didn't care at this point. He was captivated by Red's confession and that was all that mattered to him now. It didn't matter how alien he looked or how short Purple was at the moment; what mattered is that they were truly in love.

Red laughed at the dreamy, otherworldly expression on his partner's makeup smudged face, readjusting his grip and hoisting him higher before taking off across the street. "If you won't guess, I'll just have to tell you."

Purple giggled and ran his hands longingly down the front of Red's chest. "Fine," He pressed his lips to Red's forehead. "What scene?"

"You really don't know? You always told me you wanted to try it."

"Try what?"

"A snowball fight!"

Without warning, Red let go, throwing him down hard in a frozen embankment and sending a shower of snow cascading into the street. Purple bit back a scream of terror, frozen crystals stinging and burning against his delicate skin as his body went into shock. He scrambled to jump up as snow slipped beneath the collar of his coat and slid down his back, only slipping again and falling face first back into the pillowy mound of icy demise. Red hooted in laughter and doubled over when Purple finally sat up, blowing snow from his nose with a cough. Curse this inferior human body! He narrowed his eyes and glared up at his partner; Red wanted to play, huh?

In a flash, Purple scooped up a handful of snow before rearing back and chucking it hard at his lover's face, making sweet contact with his cheek and chuckling ominously when he shouted in surprise and stumbled back at the startling sensation.

"Doesn't feel so nice, _does_ it?" Purple reached down with a devious grin, tugging off his awful shoes and tossing them carelessly to the side. He pushed up and winced when the cold wetness of the snow permeated between his toes, but he didn't care. If they were going to do this, he wanted to even the playing field and hit Red with everything he could muster.

Red sneezed, confused by the bizarre new phenomenon but choosing not to dwell on it, captivated by the thrill of the hunt before him. He smiled back, and hastily wiped his face on the back of his sleeve before leisurely lowering his hands. Purple could see it in his eyes, the need to dominate that would eventually be Red's downfall. He might be short at the moment, but he was still the boss, and Red would be wise to recognize that for his own sake. Purple stared him down, impishly taunting him to make the first move and break their stalemate.

"I'm coming for you, Pur. You really wanna go up against someone with years of military experience?" Red purred ominously.

Purple raised a brow. "Try me."

Red flew down and scooped up a handful of snow, tossing it as hard as he could at his lover's chest. Purple barely dodged his incoming barrage with a playful laugh, sliding dexterously against the frozen cobbles of the street and using his heightened mobility to his advantage. Red charged him and reached out just as Purple skated out of his way, ruthlessly tripping him and watching in cruel amusement as Red cried out and flailed, falling gracelessly into the same fluffy embankment in a vicious twist of irony. Ah, karma was so sweet. Purple didn't give him a chance to recover, pouncing down on top of him and pinning him ruthlessly to the frigid ground.

"Who's the badass now, Red?" He growled humorously, grabbing handfuls of snow and forcing them into his lover's face as he fought.

Red's submission didn't last long. He reached around and yanked Purple by the hair, causing a startled yelp to fly from his lips before he felt himself end up under Red once more, his shoulders pinned lightly to the street as they both struggled to catch their breath. There was a moment of silence before they both burst into another childish fit of laughter at how disheveled and ridiculous they both looked after the scuffle.

Purple willed himself to calm, the feeling of Red's strong hands digging into his flesh igniting a sudden need to feel more. He flew up and smashed their mouths together, catching Red completely off guard before instantly pulling back, hoping to tease him into compliance. He felt his own expression darken when his partner stared down at him, stunned and unsure how to respond to the unexpected shift in the mood.

"I'm cold...Let's get out of here so you can warm me up and I can see my handsome Red again." Purple breathed wickedly, biting his lip when he heard Red's breath hitch. "You promised me we would push our beds together, right?"

Red blinked and somehow managed a nod, unable to look away from the devilish Irken-turned-human below him and caught up in the sultry air of his smooth tone.

"What are you waiting for then?"

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Reviews always appreciated. I'm going to sleep now. Oh! _**We're also going to be redoing chapter 1 in the next few days.**_ The story and plot will be exactly the same, but I wasn't satisfied with the lack of detail in it after I went back and reread it for the first time. I'll probably be updating that on 9.25 so if you are interested, I think it would be worth a read to get back to the weird roots of where this sadistic fic began! Thanks and have fun!

(_**UPDATE:**_ Chapter 1 is now rewritten by author Charlotte on 9.25.19. It's darker, more violent, and infinitely more descriptive than it was. 3.000 words in descriptors alone have been added! Yay!)

**NOTE FROM BETA READER TOM TO CHARLOTTE: Grammatical mistakes corrected and redundancy fixed. Have a good night!


	14. Divided We Fall

After fixing chapter 1, here we are, ready to bounce back into chapter 14! Thanks to all of our dedicated, continued readers who make this all happen! I also want to introduce Tom, our new beta reader all the way from America, who's little comments you might see here and at the end of chapters as he goes through them and fixes my English mistakes. For those of you who don't know, I'm from Austria but live in Canada, and sometimes words elude me. Thanks Tom!

**To reviewer** **Larrimeme**: If you do end up drawing Purple's outfit, I would love to see your rendition, and you can always feel free to send me a private message through this website! We've had a couple of people do fanart so far, and it makes me really happy! Love you darling and glad you're having fun with this fic!

**Chapter rated M for brief heavy language, adult themes and mention of sexual activity, smoking, and implied racism (which I do NOT condone. Y'all be nice to each other out there). Be prepared for everything to fall apart again because things are gonna get MESSY and I'm not sorry. This is three chapters in one. They just flow better together as one cohesive...thing. I dunno. Have fun!**

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**The crowded, smoky, dimly lit Translation Bay;**

_Have you gone mad?_

Lard Nar shook his head to himself as he stared down at the blinding monitor below him, running his tiny, skilled fingers over the touch screen and reading furiously over the Vortian text he found there. He felt ill as his weary eyes skimmed the document again, realizing with a heavy heart and vanquished mind that these words were regrettably all too familiar. They were Urb Yen's. Lard Nar pushed his chair back from his workstation, desperate to get away from the agonizing realization that this was the final report she had sent him concerning the third party's dreaded weapons deal. He was set to work translating his _own_ team's last transmissions before their mass murder in the wilderness of Irk and over the skies of Conventia, by the very Irkens that orchestrated their violent demise. What had he become? Was he really so desperate that he needed the resources of the empire he despised most to defend his home planet? The very same planet they had invaded and reduced to nothing? This was disgusting and erroneous on so many levels, a mixture of fury and anguish settling in the pit of his stomach and making him ache from head to toe. The third party…his brother in race, supposedly, but arch nemesis at the core and common enemy of the Tallest. He had stolen Urb Yen from him, contorted her corruptible mind and made her believe in his eloquent fantasies of a Vort freed through bloodshed and conquest. He groaned to himself when her haughty smile danced in his memories, a fleeting image that was already beginning to fade. Did she…suffer? Tallest Purple hadn't elaborated on the details of her death, or who had brought about her end, and Lard Nar wasn't sure he ever wanted to know. She was gone now, and there was nothing more he could do, so why bother anymore with the grisly details? Hopefully, his younger brother wouldn't meet the same fate. Prisoner 432…no…_Slad Nuch_. Lard Nar's only blood family left but wiped clean of any memories of his name and older brother by the Irken prison system. Now, Lard Nar was only an acquaintance to him, a fellow rebel fighting for their joint cause and searching for a harmony that never seemed to come. Slad Nuch had always been so intelligent but gullible, falling for the deceitful kindness of others and allowing them to use him against his better judgement. Even as Vortlings, Lard Nar would have to come to his aid when he was pushed around and taken advantage of by others. Wherever he was, if Tallest Purple's plasma shot to his shoulder caused his death, Lard Nar would personally oversee his assassination first.

He slumped back in his hard chair as a wave of depression washed over him, gazing indifferently out at the sea of vigorously working translators of all races, clicking and tapping ceaselessly at their screens and relaying information into their headsets in a dizzying garble of incomprehensible languages. The dazzling cherry eyes of Urb Yen floated back into his thoughts and her grin set him ablaze with a combination of despair and nostalgia. She had been good to him and, even if she was too high-spirited and trigger happy, she had still been one of the finest members of his team and a dear friend closer to him than anyone would ever know. More than _she_ would ever know. Maybe even more than a friend, once he began to really think about it. Their hushed late-night talks through prison bars back on Vort, the comforting transmissions she used to send 'just because,' and the pointless gifts she would send him from Irk from time to time were all wistful remembrances now. Each one was excruciating, but equally wonderful in a painful way, and Lard Nar couldn't push them from his mind no matter how hard he tried. Now, Urb Yen was only a corpse left to rot in the middle of the repulsive forests of the filthy ball of dirt and hatred that was Irk; a mighty, beautiful Vortian woman reduced to nothing by a fanatical man claiming to have all the answers. Her death couldn't be in vain, not after how far they had come together, and Lard Nar would make sure that she saw justice…even if he had to shoot the third party between the eyes himself.

_I miss you already, love…I hope you can hear me…wherever you are._

Lard Nar reached out with shaky hands and snatched his smoldering cigarette from the ash tray on his new desk, taking a few quick puffs before slowly exhaling a cloud of minty smelling smoke. He had to force away this empty feeling for Urb Yen's sake and keep moving forward for the success and safety of Vort. He frowned and gave a thick cough, feeling his lungs lurch in his chest at the sudden burn of cheap, unfiltered ash scorching the back of his throat. Irken cigarettes were terrible and they always had been, but his need to calm his frayed nerves with his deadly habit was too great and he powered through the awful taste. He glanced to his right, eyeing his targets with a scrutinizing gaze through his goggles. Three vigorous young Vortians sat, expressions focused and alert, as they worked industriously to translate incoming rebel chatter and pass on their findings to the Armada. He hadn't liked them as soon as they introduced themselves, but faked it well, and he found that all three of them were born on Irk to refugee parents and had never even seen Vort; they even bore Irken names to please the Empire. No wonder they were so enthusiastic about working for the Armada. The audacity and sheer stupidity that one of them had to overtake Vort, a planet they knew nothing about, frustrated Lard Nar beyond his means. How could they even call it their home world if they hadn't fought for it?

The first of the bunch was Polk; a stocky, robust male with an insatiable appetite for glazed donuts and an unreasonable amount of burritos, as evident from the ungodly number of wrappers littering his desk. He was quick with his tongue and could translate words on the spot without so much as a thought, but Lard Nar wasn't entirely convinced that he was evil-mastermind material. He was far too soft for murder…or so he appeared. The second target was a female who called herself Flich. She was a nervous wreck hyped up on sugar and caffeine ridden slushies that she pounded back at her desk in rapid succession, her voice a jittery whine that grated on the nerves. She was the youngest of the three and had a penchant for illegally downloading music from around the galaxy that Lard Nar had accidentally glimpsed in a file on her monitor, hinting at her technology savvy background. If she could find music that hadn't even been released yet, she could probably hack into an Irken ship on Vort. The final of the bunch was another male, who took the name Sqorb. He was stiff, lanky, and wound tighter than the curl in his horns. When Lard Nar had met him a little over an hour ago, he had been reluctant to speak or make eye contact, instead opting for a hasty handshake before pouring back over his screen with suspicious interest. He was always trying to shield his screen from prying eyes with his hands and body, only moving them away whenever he was sure no one else could see what he was doing. Strange…was he the one who had sent Specialist Pem the false transmissions? Any one of them could be the third party, and any one of them could want the Tallest dead. Lard Nar ran his tongue over his sharp teeth at the delicious thought of witnessing a third Tallest's funeral in his lifetime, and a double at that. When he was done with this horrendous alliance and Vort was safe from the threat of an Inquisitorian pullout, the Tallest would be at his mercy and he would make sure they suffered the consequences of taking over his people. He secretly hoped in the back of his benevolent mind that this would somehow fix Irken-Vortian political relations, and that his reluctant service to the Irken Empire would prove to its ruthless leaders that Vort could be a great ally to them once more if they were allowed peaceful independence. Lard Nar scoffed to himself at the blissful idea and scooted back forward to his desk, eyeing the others carefully when Flich grabbed her slushie, slurping obnoxiously through her straw before giving a fatigued blink. She yawned and glanced over, catching sight of Lard Nar and making eye contact before giving him a silent, friendly smile. He wavered before halfheartedly returning it, knowing that he couldn't trust anyone here no matter how much he wanted to be able to. He was up against his own race for the sake of his planet and the very future of his people, and he wasn't going to let this devious, sadistic third party take everything he loved, no matter how many bridges he had to burn or Vortian translators he had to step on to make that happen.

The horrid sound of a metal chair scraping against the floor rocketed him out of his thoughts, causing him to jump and simultaneously spin in his seat, blinking when he noticed Pem pulling up to plop down directly behind him. Oh yeah…then there was _this_ guy. The Planetary Conversion Specialist. He had been different since they had gotten out of the domineering presence of the Tallest and, much to Lard Nar's immediate disapproval and surprise, he was incredibly talkative and meddlesome. He'd left the Translation Bay a few times already, defying his direct orders to keep his prisoner in check, but he didn't seem to care all that much. Every time he would come back with something new to eat, taking advantage of Tallest Purple's current favoritism over him to get the catering staff to make him whatever he wanted. Unfortunately, Lard Nar had to bite his tongue in his presence for the same reason, weighing his options over telling Pem to leave him be and facing Purple's rare but infamous wrath. No thank you.

"I used to work on Vort, you know, as a Planetary Conversion Specialist. I got the planet ready for the arrival of our building teams." Pem piped up with a cheery smile and a mouth full of burrito, taking another hasty bite as he reclined casually in his seat. "It was neat. Lots of strange trees and beautiful girls. I've always thought Vortian girls were pretty. Do you think they're pretty, Lard Nar?"

"Yes, our women are quite pretty." Lard Nar sighed at the fleeting image of Urb Yen on his mind once more.

Pem scooted closer, his grin widening when he crossed his legs, popping the rest of his greasy meal in his wide mouth. "I've seen you a lot on the news and I've always wanted to meet you. You're really different and shorter than I thought; nothing like I thought you'd be."

Lard Nar rolled his eyes and glanced back, taking another long draw on his cigarette. "What _did_ you think I was like?" Ugh, dare he even ask?

Pem chuckled and mulled over the question like an inelegant, flighty fanboy. "Oh, I dunno. They call you a terrorist so I thought you'd be…eh…."

"Scary?"

"No, scary really isn't the right word…I thought you would be…just different."

Pem's ailing green eyes darkened and seemed to draw back into his skull before settling on his prisoner and staring expressionlessly at him for several unpleasant moments. No…not this again. Lard Nar swallowed and felt himself grow rigid on instinct, uneasy with the peculiar, vacant gaze that came over Pem's pale features from time to time. This was the fourth time he had done this since they had met, running his eyes over him wordlessly as if he were trying to intentionally peel away Lard Nar's skin and draw out…_something_. What was that something? Was it information about Vort? Or was he merely trying to soak up as much of Lard Nar's body language as he could before reporting back his findings to his superiors? Pem uncrossed his legs and rubbed at his bad knee, finally diverting his gaze down as he massaged his afflicting joint. His fingers twitched suddenly and his gaze snapped back up, the light coming back to his eyes with a chuckle of enthusiastic merriment. Lard Nar merely stared at him, disturbed. There was something seriously wrong with this Irken, but he couldn't put his finger on what exactly was floating and clawing just beneath the surface of Pem's psyche. Maybe he was just tired? The guy had been running the Massive for almost a week with only a few hours of sleep and an undying, pathetic obedience to his leaders that didn't seem to fizzle out. No wonder the Tallest liked him.

Pem gave a tiny stretch and hopped up from his seat, his heels clicking against the cold ground. "I'm going to go get some more food. Want anything?" He offered sincerely, leaning forward and resting his claws on the back of Lard Nar's chair, only following him as he leaned back at the intrusion of his cherished personal space.

"No, thank you."

"You sure? More cigarettes? Sandwich? We have some Vortian tea I could brew you in the mess hall. How does that sound? Or what about if I make us _both_ a cup? I miss the taste of Vort something fierce, and I'd love to be lost in her bitter flavor again…tastes like home." He began to back away with a limp, but continued talking as if no one could hear him, rambling on and on and making Lard Nar incredibly nervous with his bizarre twitchiness. He wished Pem would throw the air of regality he had used for the Tallest back on, but it was obvious at this point that he had no intentions of doing so.

"I'll bring us back two sandwiches with our tea! No…_one_ sandwich! We can cut it down the middle and share since I already ate a burrito. Do you mind sharing with me? What's your favorite kind of sandwich, Lard Nar? Mine is mayonnaise and microprophyl leaves. You know, the purple stuff? Looks gross, tastes great! I'll make us one! You know, when you're officially pardoned by the Control Brains, we could be friends and hang out. I don't have many friends, but since you're stuck with me by order of the Tallest, we already have a head start! Isn't that neat? I've _always_ wanted to have a friend like you."

_I wonder why you don't have any friends._

"That's nice. Thank you, specialist." Lard Nar managed to squeak out despite his thoughts, spinning back around and trying to look busy over his monitor, hoping Pem would get the hint and leave him before he gave him an anxiety attack.

"You're welcome, buddy!" Pem grinned and brought his hands together, wringing his fingers tirelessly and finally ceasing his rant. "Hey, Lard Nar?"

Lard Nar didn't turn, holding his breath at the sudden weight of the atmosphere crowding behind him. "Yes?"

"I appreciate you being here. You give me hope for the future…for _my_ future."

Lard Nar blinked and cocked his head, scrunching up his face at the bizarre compliment. There was a living, breathing Irken out there that appreciated him for who he was? Why? They were enemies for Vort's sake! He had been sure that the green menace was just that; a race of warmongers that pillaged and destroyed as they pleased and nothing more. But here was Pem, an eccentric, uncharacteristically enthusiastic Irken who actually wanted to be around him and was infinitely curious about Lard Nar's experiences outside of the Empire. He didn't like it. It was invasive and unpleasant. Lard Nar stared down at his lap, listening to the sounds of Pem's uneven footsteps taking off down the corridor behind him, followed by the sounds of the reinforced hatch opening and slamming shut. Finally. Maybe now Lard Nar could have some peace and quiet without Pem literally breathing down his neck.

The much-needed peace was short lived at best. As soon as Lard Nar turned his attention back to his screen, a piercing alarm bell rang out over the room, overstimulating his senses as the urgency around him skyrocketed through the roof. A horrible ripple of gasps and shuffling papers erupted over cluttered desks in a deafening mix of fear and focused determination. Fast scrolling lines of an incoming transmission flashed ominously over the huge main screen of the bay as Lard Nar stood, leaning over his desk and squinting at the foreign language he couldn't comprehend. He'd seen the script before and recognized some of the vibrant flourishes dancing over the letters but couldn't make out what any of it said, let alone meant. Why did it look so familiar? Out of nowhere, a terrified voice screamed out over the chaos and a stout Irken shot up from his seat, waving wildly for the attention of one of the bay officers standing rigid nearby.

"Sir! Inquisitorian chatter!" The translator cried, flailing his stubby arms in terror. "They're using jump codes! I think they're sending a whole fleet to intercept the Massive!"

The officer rushed over as the room froze in dread. No one dared move as the tiny translator pressed his antennae back to his headset, listening anxiously to the transmission he'd unwittingly tapped into while scanning the report on the screen with wide eyes.

"What do you mean a whole fleet!? That's impossible!" The officer barked over the pandemonium. "Are you sure?"

The translator listened a few more moments as everyone waited with terrible anticipation. "Something about fifteen…no, no…_twenty_ Inquisitorian Stinger-class cruisers being sent from a patrol around Vort! It's hazy…I can't really hear much….but it sounds like they're angry and claiming that another unmarked Irken ship attacked a research station on the surface! U-Um…six dead in the attack…five Inquisitorian adults…one underage intern…and….they're mounting a counterstrike!" He gasped and his gaze snapped back up to his superior. "There's a general with them and he's going to try and forcefully dock with the ship, sir!"

Lard Nar felt his heart leap in his chest at the drop of his homeworld's name. Another Irken ship attacked Inquisitorian territory? That was impossible! He'd been here the whole time with the others and not once did he see them do anything suspicious or tap into any foreign code to override a ship. He shot his gaze back to the other three Vortians sitting dumbfounded next to him, just as terrified and surprised to hear the news as he was. How was any of this happening? Had they sent a transmission under his horns when he and Pem were talking? Viscous questions bogged Lard Nar down as he took a shaky inhale. He swallowed and scanned their faces, stalking hastily down the line and hysterically observing their computer screens for any signs of foul play. Nothing. Time to mount a counterattack of his own, even if it wasn't going to be graceful.

"Did you do this?" He growled out to Polk, who immediately shrunk back with a yelp of surprise, pressing himself against his desk and gripping it with sudden fear.

"W-What? Do what? I don't know what you're talking about!" His voice was full of blunt misunderstanding.

It wasn't him. Lard Nar's unyielding attention snapped to Flich, who peeped out her concern when Lard Nar jabbed hotly in her direction. "What about you? Did you override that Irken ship to try and start a coup?"

Flich gasped and immediately burst into tears at the sound of Lard Nar's accusative, domineering tone. "N-No!" She stuttered, a blubbering mess. "W-Why would I do that?! I-I'm a pacifist! I love all races and I'd never pit them together!"

Damn the sincerity of her tone! She was being honest, too! Lard Nar could feel himself slipping, unable to comprehend the madness folding in around him when he turned to his next target.

"So it was you then, Sqorb!" He cried out, feeling his unstable emotion dip sharply and unable to pull out of the pit of darkness they were all ascending into. "You sent those transmissions and you murdered my Urb Yen!"

Sqorb didn't look amused, giving a long, slow blink before looking up with a total lack of interest. "What?" His voice was monotone and level, glancing to the side and watching as Lard Nar threw accusation after accusation to no avail. "What's an Urb Yen? Some kind of breakfast cereal?"

Lard Nar gritted his teeth in anger, flying forward and grabbing Sqorb by his scrawny shoulders before spinning him around in his chair to face him. "She was my closest ally, you menace! You're the third party, aren't you?!"

He dug his claws into his skin, watching as his apathy changed to something bordering on nerves in a matter of seconds. They locked eyes and stared each other down for a long while, Sqorb's distress shining through his usually lifeless features as Lard Nar breathed above him. No…no…how could this be? He felt the color drain from his body and his blood turn to a sickening chill, ripping his hands away when the world began to spin. Just…_how_?! It wasn't Sqorb either?! All three of them were completely ignorant to everything he was saying; he could see it in their eyes. But the Tallest said there were only three Vortians on the Massive, and Lard Nar was staring into their terrified faces. Suddenly, without warning, a pang of alarm hit him square between the horns, feeling them curl back in trepidation as Lard Nar turned back to eye the little translator in panic. The world was muffled by the sound of his own booming pulse as he struggled to comprehend the gut-wrenching thoughts bombarding him in waves. Someone _else_ had hacked the Irken ship to attack Inquisitorian territory. Someone _else_ had sent all of those phony transmissions to the Tallest. Someone _else_ was lurking ominously just beneath their feet, slithering about in plain sight like a venomous snake waiting to strike. But…who?

He watched as the officer went pale, staring down at the translator before spinning on his heel and frantically flipping open his wrist gauntlet, his fingers a blur as he tapped into the Massive's communications systems.

"Translation Bay to Massive, Translation Bay to Massive!" He yelled out in dread, trying to follow standard protocol through his panic as his voice exploded over the internal loudspeaker of the ship. "This is a level nine threat! I repeat, this is a level nine threat! We have received intelligence that an Inquisitorian battle fleet is approaching the Massive! All available units are to report to the docks and fall into defensive formation around the ship! This is not a drill! We are to protect our Tallest at all costs!"

Lard Nar staggered back, pushing off his desk No…it was happening already? He was supposed to be here to put an end to this Irken-Inquisitorian conflict, not watch it escalate into a full-blown war! The third party was winning, and they still didn't have any idea as to who he was or where he could be! Vort was hanging in the balance and Lard Nar could almost hear the screams of millions trapped behind bars in maximum security prisons, burning and freezing to their collective demise as Inquisitoria pulled out, taking the precious atmosphere with them. Irk would lose millions in the blink of an eye to heavy cannon sweeps obliterating their planet's surface, and the Tallest would execute Lard Nar on the spot for his failures. No! No, no, _no_! This couldn't be happening! He couldn't have failed again…he didn't even have a chance to start!

He spun around and glared at the hatch Pem had left through. Lard Nar was supposed to stay put until his escort returned; leaving without him and running through the Massive would be a death sentence. He bit his lip, hastily running over the few options he had left. Ok; Inquisitoria was coming under false pretenses of war and bloodshed caused by someone somewhere aboard the ship. All he knew is that this individual wanted to free Vort and watch the Irken Empire and the Inquisitorian Federation destroy each other. When control was relinquished, they would supposedly take Vort for themselves. Think! Who would want that? _Why_ would they want that? Lard Nar clenched his fists, pulling back when he bit down a little too hard on his lip, the taste of blood flooding his mouth. He didn't know. Fuck, he didn't know!

Forget Pem; this couldn't wait. He took off down the walkway and feverishly flung open the hatch, practically throwing himself through the panel and nearly tripping in the process. The Tallest said they were going to be at the Holodeck. Lard Nar thought hard about the hundreds of schematics for the Massive that he had poured over during his time working for the Empire, desperate to remember its layout and sprinting through the rough diagram forming in his mind. Finally, he remembered and shot through the corridor, bobbing and weaving around puzzled soldiers and officers as he went. As much as he hated them, the Tallest were the only two individuals he could think of right now who could stop Inquisitoria from firing upon the Massive and ripping open the first gash that would cause their collective downfalls. Maybe they could get the general of the fleet to agree to peacefully board the ship for negotiations. He needed Purple. His clever eloquence and quick tongue could put an end to this…and if he couldn't Red's aptitude for harsh brutality and militaristic strategy could. It had to work. There was no other way.

* * *

As soon as he felt the visor unhooked and tugged off by Red's gentle hands, Purple was on him again, squeezing and kissing and shivering from the bizarre cold of the hologram he still couldn't wrap his mind around. It was enjoyable while it lasted, but Purple had begun to realize how remarkable his existence truly was, despite all the trouble he'd caused and been through the past few weeks. For one, he wasn't a petite, blonde, human worm in terrible back-breaking shoes, and Red wasn't a repulsive, freakishly tall human male with a scarf that had been out of fashion for cycles. Red's work had been endearing and infinitely romantic, and the virtual reality had been mind-blowingly realistic, but Purple much preferred his Red the same height and species.

It took a few moments to readjust to the searing light of the Holodeck and the renewed feeling in his tingling extremities, but Purple somehow managed to haphazardly back Red against the wall, the faint static of the monitors rippling up his antennae as felt himself overcome by the same provocative emotions from the previous night. They were atavistic, feral, and boiled their way up through his nervous system before fanning out and setting his body on fire for Red's strong touch. He wanted to feel dominated on his terms, wanted Red's hands roaming gorgeous expanses of once virgin skin turned savage. Forget the bedroom and forget the formality. He wanted Red…_now_. Purple fumbled with the buttons of Red's jacket with unsteady hands, desperate to see more, to feel more of his lover gliding under his touch. He wanted Red's flawed skin pressed recklessly against his, his sharp teeth dragging temptingly over his narrow shoulders, his long fingers curling and reaching for places only he was allowed to touch. The dull throbbing in Purple's abdomen only reaffirmed his intense hunger and instinctive need to feel Red moving inside him again. Red would be wise to let him take what he wanted.

"Woah." Red reached down between them, grabbing Purple by the wrists with a mutual smirk. "What are you doing?"

Too much fabric. Red was still far too clothed for his liking. "I dunno." Purple drew out the words deliciously like silk, taking advantage of his capture to guide Red's hand's leisurely to the hem of his shirt. He was growing warm, silently encouraging Red to peel away his layers and explore. "I wanna see how far this date is gonna go."

Red got the hint but took his sweet time, savoring every breathy hum pouring off his partner's lips as he tugged teasingly at the fabric. Purple didn't move, tortured by each prolonged advance and tensing at the abrupt feeling of Red's chilly fingertips dipping ever-so-slightly beneath his shirt, barely grazing the balmy skin he found there and making him squirm for more friction.

"We can go as far as you want." Red breathed, voice dripping with a seductive deprivation, leaning in but stopping short a few frustrating inches. He chuckled darkly when Purple's breath hitched with a dizzying flush he couldn't seem to swallow, itching to close the distance between them and biting back the urge to tear Red to shreds. "Want me that bad, huh? I knew I was good, but I never thought you'd get addicted." He teased.

Irk, Purple wanted to force that narcissistic, smug face between his legs where he belonged and shut him up for the rest of the night. What…what would Red's long tongue feel like _there_? Purple drew a sharp inhale at the indecent, delightfully abhorrent thought, feeling himself grow weak when Red's cool palms snaked up to sluggishly trace his ribcage. He was moving agonizingly slow, each stroke feather light and deliberate, and Purple felt his vision began to lapse. He gasped and held back an airy moan, moving to smash their mouths together but was immediately cut off by a thundering mechanical boom echoing through the Holodeck. The two froze, caught in each other's unbearable body heat and the honied aroma of desire, and simultaneously turned to the hatch, half expecting to see someone burst through and catch them in their forbidden affair. After a few long seconds of panicked anticipation at being discovered, nothing more came and Purple finally relaxed and turned his attention back to Red. He smiled, eager to forget whatever was happening beyond the door as he ran his hands deviously up the stiff fabric of his blazer. He giggled softly and popped the first button, glancing up and feeling his amorous expression instantly fall flat when his partner refused to meet his gaze. Red wasn't paying him any mind, completely absorbed by whatever mysterious anarchy was unfolding beyond the door, the uncertainty of not knowing kicking his overly sharp senses into overdrive. Red quickly let Purple go, pulling his fingertips away without a word and narrowing his eyes to the unexpected sound, completely fixated and lost to his thoughts.

Purple slumped hard against the wall with an annoyed huff, hastily stuffing his shirt back in his waistband with an aggravated grumble. Red's attention had dissolved, and he knew that, watching his partner with an irritated gaze when he strode briskly to the hatch. Right now, Purple didn't care how attractive his partner was or how much he loved him, he wanted to slap him hard across the face for ruining the mood. Then, he was going to gut whoever had caused the infuriating interruption in the first place.

"_Really_, Red?" Purple called after him in frustration, stomping lightly on the ground and hoping Red noticed how utterly dissatisfied he was. "It was one noise! Get back over here and finish what we started!" The nerve Red had sometimes!

Red rolled his eyes and glanced back over his shoulder, reaching out and fumbling with the keypad to the side of the hatch. "Calm down. It's not like this is the last time I'll ever touch you." He grumbled. "We need to check what's happening. What if it's important?"

"_Important_?! What could be more important than me?!" Purple whined, stomping back to the table and throwing himself down in one of the hard chairs before reaching out and grabbing at what was left of his food. He shoved a few cold fries in his mouth and shot Red a disappointed look. Unfortunately, he didn't seem to care.

"We can mess around when we get back to our room later. I'll make it worth your while, I promise."

"Whatever. I'm turned off now, anyway, so thanks a lot."

Red shrugged flippantly and turned back to the hatch, jumping as another resounding bang came from the other side, vibrating up the smooth metal followed by a high-pitched shout. Purple blinked and stopped mid-chew, forgetting his aggravations and pushing back up to join his partner at the door with a frown. He grabbed his jacket and hurriedly threw it on, his own inquisitiveness peaked as to what, or who, was so frantic to get to them. Ok…maybe Red was right for once.

The computer finally dinged out its compliance, unlatching the door just as a third pound knocked it wide open, a tangled mess of gray limbs and flopping horns flying through with a cry and careening to the floor with a painful thud. The screech of a familiar but formidable alarm bell rang out through the adjacent corridors, bouncing through the main office of the Holodeck and laced with the barking orders of officers scrambling about in terrified confusion. Lard Nar groaned and rubbed at his shoulder from the ground, hissing at the bruising feeling radiating through his bone.

"Lard Nar?" Purple asked slowly, his suspicions quickly growing when he noticed Pem was nowhere to be seen. "You're supposed to be in the Translation Bay with Pem. Why are you up here?"

Lard Nar gasped and scrambled to his feet as he tried to catch his erratic breath. "We," He wheezed with a cough, "we have a problem. A _big_ problem!"

"I'll say. Where the hell is your escort?" Red demanded fiercely, looking Lard Nar from head to toe before glancing out the open door. "And what did you do?"

"N-Nothing! It wasn't me!" Lard Nar threw his hands up in defense when Red took a step forward. "I was observing the other Vortians on the ship like we had agreed but I overheard something terrible!"

"M-my Tallest!" An intelligence officer burst through the open door before Lard Nar could elaborate, waving the heavy reader in his hand uncontrollably as he sputtered. "Wait, what are you wearing? Ah! That's not the point!" He shook his head and forced himself back on track. "We're under threat of attack by an Inquisitorian battle fleet!"

"What?!" Purple blurted out without thinking, snatching the reader from the frantic officer's hand and quickly running over the damning report, leaning in so Red could read along with him. "You're kidding right?"

"We have received intelligence at 21:58 that an Inquisitorian battle fleet headed by General Nulol is inbound to the Massive and will be arriving through temporal jump at approximately 22:19." Red glanced up at one of the monitors and swallowed thickly. They had three minutes. "At 21:58, Irken translator 15 picked up a transmission between General Nulol and the Inquisitorian Prime Minister. The use of deadly force was authorized in light of an unauthorized attack by an unmarked Irken vessel on an Inquisitorian research facility. Primary objective; protect the Tallest."

"We didn't authorize an attack." Purple breathed, dumbfounded but feeling his shock quickly shift to fury, shooting a fiery look down at Lard Nar who shook in his shoes. "_You_! You were supposed to prevent this, not make it worse!"

"That's just it! I think we're wrong about this whole thing!" Lard Nar stood his ground, staring up with a resolute glare. "I thought the third party was Vortian, but there's something not adding up here!"

Red shoved him hard to the side with an indignant snort, grabbing Purple by the elbow and dragging him along against his will. "Get Nulol on the line. I want to talk to him." He ordered to the officer, who saluted with a curt nod.

"Please, listen to me!" Lard Nar followed, practically begging for purchase in a treacherous conversation he was beginning to fear would go nowhere. "I didn't see any evidence that any of those translators did anything to cause this! There's someone else behind it all!"

Purple let Red pull him along, flinching when he felt his nails dig into his joint. "That's impossible. Who else would want to free Vort? Ow! Hey!" He snapped when Red yanked him on a little harder than he was expecting.

"If a Vortian didn't do this, then who did, huh? An _Irken_?" Red growled, trying to hold everything together for the sake of those around him. "Someone get him out of my sight."

Lard Nar struggled to keep up when more officers crowded in around their Tallest, shoving report after horrifying report up at them with panicked eyes. He felt powerful hands fly around his waist from behind, forcefully squeezing the air from his lungs as he was vehemently hoisted from the ground by a hefty soldier.

Red leaned down to another guardsman, watching as Lard Nar thrashed and yelled. "Take the Captain here and his three Vortian accomplices to the brig and prepare to transport them to Judgementia for trial. They've been illegally hacking Irken ships on Vort in an attempt to start a coup and take over the planet."

"No! I'm trying to _help_ you! If your idiotic race would just open their eyes and look at the bigger picture for once you'd see that I'm right!" Lard Nar wailed, landing a feeble kick to his captor's stomach. "Purple, tell him! Tell him, _please_!"

Purple swallowed but remained silent, tugging away from Red's grip when the lanky intelligence officer passed him a communicator open with General Nulol. He refused to take his wary gaze off of the frantic Vortian unraveling in front of him; Red had fought Vortians during the war and was always right about them. Maybe Lard Nar did start all of this after all…maybe Purple was just an awful judge of character.

"Ah, General!" Red piped up into the mouthpiece, throwing on a rehearsed conviviality that always made Purple cringe. Red being nice to a race other than his own? As if. "I haven't heard from you in a few cycles! How is your daughter doing these days?" He rolled his eyes to Purple as he ran through the motions. "Married? Give her my belated congratulations! I'll have to send a wedding gift, courtesy of the Irken Empire….no, really, I insist! Now, what's all this talk about an Inquisitorian battle fleet inbound for my ship?"

Purple listened carefully, impressed by the cool innocence and false authenticity to Red's tone. He was getting better at this. By now, the hallway was packed to the brim with little faces and antennae craning to catch a glimpse or snippet of this historic, but worrying, conversation. If Red messed this up, there would be thousands of deaths on the Massive alone…again. Damn. Everything had just been cleaned up from the last catastrophe, too.

"I understand, but you need to try and see this from my perspective, General." Red willed his voice to stay level, a look of intense focus darkening his crimson eyes. "Our ship and fleet have been compromised by a rebel faction with the ability to hack our technology on Vort." He paused and nodded to himself, the General's muffled voice barely audible. "Yes, unfortunately. This has all been a very dangerous misunderstanding, but we have apprehended the terrorists responsible for the deaths of your people and we will be sending them to Judgementia for trial and execution."

"Execu-!?" Lard Nar went to cry out in terrified protest but was cut off when the guard clamped a smothering hand over his mouth, effectively silencing him. He tried to shout through the guard's thin fingers, locking eyes desperately with Purple who moved closer to Red's side, trying to silently plead with him. How could he have been so stupid as to let a Vortian play him for a fool _again_?

A look of smug victory flashed over Red with a smile at Lard Nar's torture. "Yes, there will be no more rogue flyovers, I can assure you, and no more Irken ships attacking your research sites. If you would be so kind as to give me the opportunity to explain further, I would gladly have you aboard the Massive for an impromptu conference to restore your confidence in the Irken Empire and our alliance."

Purple followed Red's lead when he held his breath, staring resolutely into the distance as he waited for the General to respond. There was a long, drawn out pause that had everyone in attendance anxious and on their toes, Red's antennae stiff and inert as his eyes flickered to Purple's, looking for any form of reassurance and calming a bit when he found it. Finally, there was a muted reply of reluctant agreement and Red allowed his body to relax, nearly slumping against his co-Tallest as he practically buckled in on himself. Thank the universe there was a truce…for now.

"I want to personally extend thanks from myself, Tallest Purple, and the whole of the Irken Empire for your compliance, General." Red fought back a breathless chuckle, running his free hand up over his antennae and wiping away the profuse sweat he hadn't noticed pouring off of himself. "I will send our finest ship to guide you safely to our docking bay and my co-Tallest and I will personally meet you there."

There was another sickening pause as Red narrowed his eyes, straining to hear through the static of the communicator. "Of course…yes…sounds wonderful. We look forward to seeing you shortly, General."

The call ended and Red growled out his blistering frustrations, a spike of rage blinding him as he chucked the transmitter out into the sea of astonished faces, dissatisfied when someone actually caught it. He turned back to Purple who searched his weary expression for any bit of information he could find.

"Well? What did he say?"

"We have one minute before he gets here." Red sighed but snatched back his composure, addressing the crowd with an authority Purple had always admired. "Listen up! If you don't want this ship to go down in flames like what happened in the Florpus you'll get the first conference room on the lower deck ready! You have one minute, so make it happen!" A frantic chatter erupted over the crowd and bodies scrambled in every direction, bumping into one another and scattering readers and papers across the floor in the mayhem. "Officer," Red nodded down to the intelligence officer from before, "Send my personal Ring Cutter to escort General Nulol to the docks. We need to make a good first impression and make sure everything goes smoothly from here on out."

"Yes, my Tallest!" The officer turned on his heel and sprinted through the corridor, quickly lost to the frenzied, hectic mob.

There was a sharp shriek of pain as Lard Nar bit down on the hand of his jailer, forcing him away and struggling against his robust arms to no avail. "You're making a mistake! The third party is still here somewhere on the ship and he'll destroy both our empires if you don't do something!" The guard cursed under his breath and began dragging him away, battling to keep his tough grip on Lard Nar's squirming, writhing body. "Purple, please!" Lard Nar screamed from further down the hallway. "I thought we had a deal! Don't let our planets fall to this psychopath!"

Red shook his head in disgust at the boisterous, frantic screaming that grew fainter with the distance, echoing vehemently through the creaking halls of the Massive. "I knew he was bad news." He mumbled under the commotion.

"I'm sorry." Purple began dejectedly, following as Red bobbed and weaved through the tidal wave of body heat and terror. "I should have left him on trial where he belonged."

"It's not your fault. I thought he could help, too." Red replied, soothing his partner's concerns before they could rear their ugly head. "That's what these guys do, Pur, they live to scam and con their way to the top. They get the best of us sometimes."

Purple stepped around a cluster of gently weeping communications officers, overcome by the immense stress of what was to happen as they made call after call in preparation for the rapidly approaching, and quite sudden, Irken-Inquisitorian conference.

"What are we going to say to Nulol?" He asked, falling in step with his partner as he thought. "We've got one shot to fix this, Red."

"I know and…I don't know."

Purple wanted to reach out and take Red's hand, to let him know he had done fantastic with his words and that everything was going to be alright, but he held himself back as they left for the docks. Instead he opted for a fleeting, soft smile as they hastily navigated the throng to the main elevator that would take them directly to the bay. He took a deep breath and put his game face on, trying to psyche himself into another rigorous session of furious negotiation and witty deal striking. Hopefully, this time, Red wouldn't be ruthlessly body slamming anyone into tables. As soon as the doors shut behind them and they began their slow decent to their doctrinal demise, Purple reached out and brought his tender thoughts to life, grabbing Red's hand and pressing their palms together despite the small grumble of protest he earned in return.

"Look at me."

"Not now, Purple. I need to think."

Floors ticked away and their last fleeting time alone was wearing thin. "I said look at me, love."

This time, Red didn't flinch or shy away at the tiny nickname worked seamlessly into Purple's uncompromising voice. Maybe he was slowly growing to like it, even finding an odd solace in it, or maybe his head was swimming with the threat of destruction and he just couldn't see straight anymore. Another floor passed and Purple squeezed Red's fingers tightly in his, blinking when he finally drew in that ephemeral attention that was so difficult to attract. Red said nothing, his expression stern and itching to go to war, but laced with a twinge of doubt as to how all of this would play out. He didn't like doubting himself. Doubt meant there was a chance he could fail, and he couldn't afford to do that…not when twenty enemy cannons hovered around them outside.

"Everything will be ok." Another floor came and went. Purple's soothing whisper rang out like a hymn, a weight dragging Red back to his body and keeping him from floating away into the ether. "You can do this, and I'm always here to fix it if you screw it up."

Red smiled at the coy jab, his anxieties being stolen away by that incredible voice he couldn't live without. They were almost there, an air of resolute determination eating them away from the inside out. It had been so long since they had been forced to wrestle for the security of Irk, and the very thought of having to bend to the will of another empire when they had been on top of the universe for so long was as foreign as it was infuriating. At least they had figured out this mess with their secret nemesis, the third party. The translators and Lard Nar would be locked away in the brig until it was determined who had set off this deadly game of intergalactic chess. Purple knew he and Red were no pawns; they were the formidable kings of this playing field and they were going to squash the third party and Inquisitoria underneath their boots like they deserved.

Time was almost gone, melting like ice and refreezing again when the elevator doors jammed and refused to budge like always, a welcome hitch to bide precious seconds.

"I love you."

Purple let go, Red's fingers lingering against his before he grudgingly followed his lead, throwing his hands respectfully behind his back and straightening to near perfection, ready to face the wrath of the pitiful excuse for a general they were about to beat down.

"I love you too."

Light flooded the pod when the doors peeled themselves open, a sea of eager faces and horrified chatter greeting them like familiar friends. A massive, deep cerulean ship was the center of attention, barely fitting into the docking port as steam poured off of it in waves from the stress of the temporal jump. Then, eye contact was made. General Nulol's untrustworthy, one-eyed gaze settled against Red's, daring him to approach from across the room as his mandibles clicked and shivered. Red gave a small nod to Purple who returned it, the two stepping into the light and towards their uncertain future.

* * *

General Nulol had been reluctant to speak, ordering his entourage to wait with the ship should any foul play unfold. Red had gone to politely shake his mantis-like appendage, but the General had merely blinked his gargantuan cherry-red eye and brushed past in a brazen attempt to show his defiance. Purple had reluctantly urged Red to follow, chatting lightly with Nulol the entire way to the conference room and trying to work him over with his false kindness. It didn't work. As soon as the room was ready and the table was set, General Nulol took his seat smack dab in the middle, forcing Red and Purple to sit submissively to either side of him. If the future of Irk and the stability of the Empire didn't hang in the balance over this talk, Purple would have set Nulol on fire as soon as his unworthy boots touched the Massive. With that, the door was closed and a troop of guards barricaded them inside with their fate…whatever it ended up being.

General Nulol sat in silence for a few moments, observing the beautiful decor with keen interest and nodding to himself when he caught sight of the lavish tray of snack foods laid expertly before him by a service drone.

Finally, he smiled but remained poised, reaching out and balancing a pastry expertly on his tibial spines. "I must say, gentlemen," he began with a gruff voice, taking a small bite, "I am impressed with what you were able to achieve in less than a minute."

Purple watched from across the table as Red puffed up at the compliment. "Of course. We want you to indulge in the finest the Irken Empire has to offer."

General Nulol ignored him, instead turning to Purple who straightened up where he sat. "I am quite intrigued, Tallest Purple, by your choice of attire for the occasion." He flashed him a gradually softening grin and ran his piercing eye over Purple's jacket. "Yes, you're raising many questions indeed."

Shit. He was still in civilian clothes. Quick, think of an excuse! When nothing came, Purple sighed under his breath and renewed his air of decorum. "Ah, I apologize; I didn't have time to change."

"Do not apologize, my dear." General Nulol leaned over slightly and put a feeler up on the table, his haughty grin only widening when Purple blinked in surprise at the unwelcome twinkle of fascination to his tone. "I am Inquisitorian and it is my nature to question. And right now," he chuckled, "I'm questioning why I never noticed how pretty you are."

"_Excuse_ me?" Purple shrunk back, making an unsuccessful attempt at hiding his disgust and glancing in Red's direction for help.

"I only speak the truth." Nulol teased with a smirk.

"Ok, that's enough." Red threw his hands up on the table and stood, his air of formality officially falling apart as he shot holes through Nulol's sickening advances. "That is highly inappropriate, General. We are here to discuss official political business, not my co-Tallest's appearance. Do not forget that he is a ruler and is above you, so please keep your comments respectful to your rank."

Nulol merely laughed at Red's possessive anger. "Forgive me, I'm an old man so I have to take what I can get at this point in my life. I forget you Irkens don't take kindly to comments of this kind, and I was simply pointing out that Tallest Purple was quite the beauty. There is no reason to get worked up over a compliment." His jab was intentional and well placed, only making Red boil and seethe silently under his layers as he sunk back down.

Old man? More like filthy narcissist.

This conference had only just started, and Purple was more than ready for it to end. He was silently kicking himself for not wearing his suit, all too aware of the General's wandering pupil and Red nearly bursting at the seams with protective fury across from him. Suddenly, a thought struck him. It was disgusting and wrong, but maybe he could turn this whole twisted situation back in his favor. Oh, Irk, was he really going to sink this low for the security of Irk? If it would finally bring this irritating mess to an end, he would do whatever was necessary to get Nulol to sign the truce. Every citizen on Irk and Vort was going to owe him.

"Thank you, General Nulol." He began, leaning forward on his elbows with a forced smile. "I'm happy you like it."

Red glared at his partner in furious disbelief, his overpoweringly sweet turn of phrase aberrant and galling. Purple met his fiery stare and Red blinked when he noticed the corners of his mouth twitch uncharacteristically, narrowing his eyes ever so slightly at the signal. Wait…signal? Purple repeated his movements and solidified Red's growing suspicions, a pang of impressed awe washing over him when he realized what his partner was going to do. Inquisitorians were loose with their partners and didn't have any concept of separation on the basis of sex, and Purple was going to latch on to that and warp it to fit his clever, shady motives. Red returned his tiny smile with a fleeting one of his own, as if to give his lover the final permission he needed to go to war with the pathetic officer's weak heart. Slick bastard. This was going to be good.

Purple scooted closer to the General and crossed his legs, placing his hands in his lap. "Before we start, I had a question for you, General." He drew his antennae forward, trying to look as thoroughly engaged and effeminate as he possibly could. "Your ship is amazing. I wanted to know who you commissioned to build it."

General Nulol's mandibles twitched at the invitation and he quickly licked his pedipalps. "Thank you for noticing." He practically swelled at the compliment and his voice took on a disgustingly sultry, over-confident waver. "It was a gift from the Prime Minister for my incredible service, built by the finest engineers on Inquisitoria and the only of its kind."

"Fascinating!" Purple tried to fight the urge to deck the General when he reached out and gently brushed his knee with the tip of his feeler. He watched Red glare at the unwanted touch out of the corner of his eye, but he was being surprisingly patient. Purple needed to seal the deal and move on before Red's impulse got the best of him and he started a fist fight with the General over him. And, as much as he wanted to see Nulol knocked down a few pegs, they couldn't afford to mess this up.

"I've never seen anything like it. And maybe…" Purple motioned for a scribe standing patiently against the far wall to move forward and present him with a reader before reaching out and swiping a finger over the General's feeler. "Maybe you can show it to me after we sign this truce and drop all of these silly accusations against my Empire? I'd love to have a private tour."

"A _private_ tour?"

"Yes."

"One of the most powerful beings in our galaxy alone with _me_ in _my_ ship?"

"Mmhm. If you want that, you'll help me out and sign our truce."

General Nulol glanced down at the reader Purple slid slowly across the table and scrutinized his heavy, half-lidded eyes. All of a sudden, he threw his head back with a boisterous chuckle and shook his head in genuine amusement.

"You little fox! I will admit, you almost had me convinced for a moment." He shot Purple a look that was more playful than aggressive but pushed the agreement away, Purple catching it before it slid off the table with a deep frown. "You've got more fire in you than I thought!"

Dammit, they were so close! The General may taunt and chide with him about fire, but he had no idea how hard he was about to get burned. Purple shrugged with a jaded sigh and turned to Red, nodding him into the game and watching him itch to sink his claws into his target. Fine. If not the easy way, then the hard way it was.

"General, how would you like it if your superiors found out you were sexually harassing my co-Tallest and refusing to sign a peaceful agreement with your allies?" Red flashed him a cheeky smile and held up his wrist gauntlet, watching as Nulol's eye grew wide with horrid shock. "I may have recorded everything."

"I-Impossible!" The General cried out, swallowing when Red's look changed to one of disinterest. "I did nothing of the sort!"

Red snorted and gave a haughty chuckle. "Please. I already have your voice and it wouldn't be hard to edit. Plus, who do you think they'll trust; the leader of one of the most powerful empires in the galaxy or a general who's about to retire?"

Purple uncrossed his legs and leaned in dangerously close, watching as the General began to sweat under his cruel, intimidating gaze. "You know what, Red?" He gave a false whine, refusing to let up his affront and wiping away fake tears. "I think he _groped_ me. You saw it too, didn't you?"

Red clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth in disgrace when the terrified General began to stutter. "Oh, Purple, I definitely saw. The Inquisitorian Prime Minister can see it too with just the press of a button." He reclined in his chair with a whistle. "Forcing yourself on an Almighty Tallest? I can already see the headlines for your execution."

General Nulol couldn't take it anymore and broke under the heavy-handed provocation of his once good allies. "Fine! I'll sign your agreement on one condition!"

"Make it quick." Red sneered out his annoyance, snapping his gauntlet shut and giving his captee respite from their harsh bullying. This was becoming far too monotonous for his liking.

Nulol's face took on more ominous, somber notes as he recollected himself and cleared his raspy throat. "I need to see evidence that this was indeed planned by a rebel faction and not the Irken Empire. Without concrete proof, I will be forced, under order of Prime Minister Stedhob, to fire upon your flagship." He glanced back at Purple, narrowed eye full of a new, grisly animosity. "And I would hate to see such a pretty face engulfed in the flames of my cannon fire."

Purple shot him a smug smile. Serves him right for being a corrupt pervert. "Lucky for you, we have the individual responsible for the attacks locked in our brig as we speak. Are you familiar with Captain Lard Nar, the rebel terrorist responsible for numerous failed takeovers of Vort?"

"Lard Nar? _The_ Lard Nar who's always given my people so much grief on Vort's outlying moons?" General Nulol's solemnity faded as his mouth began to water at the thought of the little Vortian grieving in the brig. "But I thought he was already on trial?"

"That's not important." Red piped up, veering the conversation back on track. "We have him and his three accomplices just down the hallway and are willing to take you there if you behave."

General Nulol didn't waste any time, jumping up and making haste towards the door. "Yes, yes. This is wonderful news!" He rubbed his ribbed feelers together and waited for Purple to halfheartedly open the door. "If what you're saying is true, the alliance between our peoples will be stronger than ever and we will be able to safely co-exist on Vort once more!"

"I'm glad you see it our way, General." Red grinned down at him, following close behind and reveling in his much needed, incredible victory. Finally! This whole mess was over and he and Purple could pick up with their lives where they left off. Or so they thought.

Crackling.

Static.

A single finger pounding on a mouthpiece, making sure everything was in working order.

The internal loudspeaker of the Massive clicked to life with the faint trill of foreign music ebbing and flowing at irregular intervals, each flourish more elaborate than the last and quickly escalating in volume. Purple's antennae shot up at the disturbing, ghostly sound as he frantically glanced about to try and identify the source, Red and the General following his lead but also coming up short. Officers stopped mid-step in the hallway, janitors ceased their filthy mopping and fervent dusting, medical drones poked their tiny heads out from doors with perplexed frowns. No one spoke, voices stolen by the bizarre instruments and haunting crackle pouring out of the intercom to invade bewildered antennae. It got worse. A chilling chorus of thousands of pre-recorded voices, singing out in glowing, nationalistic unanimity for a people disregarded and ridiculed for over a hundred cycles. A people that had become the thorn in the side of the Irken Empire.

"_Peresi blog sang h'lah Grat; Peresi blog sang h'lah ya'meh. Peresi blog sang h'lah Ebek; Vort perdu vernao ji Fru'hi_."

Vortian. Thousands of Vortian voices. Children, women, elderly…all singing the same horrifying anthem that hadn't been allowed to ring through the cosmos for as long as Purple could remember. It was concentrated and stomach-churning, the same national tune shrieking out on a torturous loop.

"Red, what's happening!?" Purple finally broke the stunned silence, spinning around to face his partner and throwing his hands over his antennae as the music went up a dreadful octave. "That's the Vortian Song of Independence!"

Red shot him a look of sheer panic and the two could almost read each other's translucent thoughts. Lard Nar! Had Lard Nar escaped?! How was that even possible? He and the others were stuck behind three feet of reinforced steel so there was no conceivable way they could leave, let alone get a signal in or out! Oh, Irk. It wasn't them. None of them were the third party. Without thinking, Purple turned and raced down the hallway, Red yelling something out behind him that he couldn't make out over the thunderous commotion. They were wrong. Fuck, they were wrong! Everything Lard Nar had said, every cry and pleading beg he had shot at Purple had been true and he had been too blinded by his own ignorance to accept it. Purple skidded to a stop at the reinforced door of the brig and pounded the keypad with an override code. Two heavy latches pulled back with a hard mechanical thunk, followed by a fierce shove from the other side, throwing open the hatch. Lard Nar didn't bother with formalities or apologies, getting right to the point with a terrified screech as the others cowered behind him.

"Do you believe me now?! We have to find him before it's too late!" He cried, wincing at the painful, earsplitting blare. "Wait, do you hear that?!"

Purple stopped and listened, straining to hear over the commotion. Finally, he locked onto something faint, almost like metallic gears grinding sluggishly against one another. He knew that sound…where did he know that sound from? His PAK sputtered to attention, jolting him back in time nearly two weeks to the mind-bending terror and carnage of the Florpus, throwing him into the horrific mess he had tried so hard to drown out. Why this? Why _now_? Suddenly, Purple heard it again, the same faint ticking as he watched his past self stare down a mangled corridor in the aftermath of the destruction, observing a fire safety door slowly raising back up to reveal the rest of the hallway. The fire door? But those only came down and blocked off the walkways when there was a blaze that needed containing. Wait. No. Purple gasped and rocketed himself back into the present, immediately overcome by the puncturing sound once more. Someone had wormed their way into the mechanics of the ship, and that someone was now in control of the safety door. Red called out to him again, running to meet him with the General close on his heels.

"Red, stop! The door!" He threw out a hand just as the heavy door came crashing down between them and latched into the deep groove in the floor. The music came to an abrupt and graceless stop, deafening silence roaring in to take its place and just as unnerving.

They were separated; completely and utterly cut off from one another.

"Purple?!" Red's urgent voice resounded through the metal followed by the sound of four scorching lasers from Red's PAK colliding brutally with the panel in a desperate attempt to break through. Not so much as a dent. "What the hell? I can't get through!"

They both knew deep down that nothing would work; those doors were designed to be impenetrable. Purple couldn't see him. His anchor, his _everything_, trapped with the unknown behind an immobile gate once meant to provide peace of mind but now shattering it into a million pieces. This wasn't happening. They were finally supposed to have their happily ever after so why did the vicious, cruel universe and this horrendous third party bastard insist on keeping them apart?!

"Computer!" Purple wailed out in blind fury. "Override fire safety regulations, NOW!"

Nothing. Not even a spark of life.

"Red?!" Purple called back, thick panic welling up in his chest as he frantically pressed his cheek to the cool steel. "The computer isn't responding!" He tried to fight off the horrifying feeling of the world crashing in on him but couldn't. He was nothing but a fragment of a PAK without Red, one half of a broken whole and unable to function without him.

"Don't panic, Pur! We'll figure this out!"

There was more static as the intercom readjusted and latched on to another foreign signal. This one was quieter, a hum of childish enjoyment followed by a tiny laugh of amusement. The voice was a gentle, saccharine muse that unnerved Purple to the bone and rattled his already shaken core as he waited in petrified expectation, Red and the General presumably doing the same on the other side. Then, after what seemed like cycles, the muffled voice spoke as an echo.

"Hello."

Soft. So soft and distant yet so…_familiar_. It was a tone that Purple had heard aboard the Massive for a while, but he couldn't place where, wracking his tired mind and PAK for any information as to who the mysterious voice could be. He should have paid more attention to the advisors, the chefs, the wide eyes of the new Elite just assigned to the Massive. He needed a name, a face, anything to finally give him a concrete target to go after. Until then, this individual was a wisp of smoke, a whisper of an idea not yet solidified into being but still deadly enough to cut through skin and sever tendons. He was the malicious code in the stream of Purple and Red's already backwards lives, boring his way in like a virus to corrupt them all beyond recognition.

"I can see you."

The third party's tone was hushed and excited, almost like he was sharing a long held secret. Purple felt his attention immediately snap up to one of the thousands of cameras dotting the ship, watching in awe when the facetious voice chuckled delicately in response.

"Yes, that's right. You've always been so photogenic, haven't you, Pur? Smile!"

The violation, the fearlessness, the sheer gall this guy had to taunt Purple and use Red's nickname so easily whipped him up into a frenzy. "Who are you?!" He shouted vehemently up at the camera, baring his teeth. "Why can't you just leave me alone and stop ruining my life?!"

There was a pause, followed by the resonance of a giggle. "Who am I?" Another hushed chuckle. "You might call me karma, here to collect your debt."

There was a bang against the door, followed by the searing heat of Red's fury. "Shut up and quit hiding! Get out here and fight me, you coward!"

"You know, I always liked you the _least_. Loud…so loud. I had hoped that idiot rebel Urb Yen had killed you but I guess she was more incompetent than I thought." The voice purred in response, filling the air with an electric, childlike cruelty. "You have already met me. I have wandered these halls biding my time until I could allow you to know me. The real me. But for now, we're going to play a game."

"No, I'm done with your games! You're going to show yourself and we're going to settle this like men!" Red barked back. Purple could practically see his face, darkened with rage and frothing behind the panel.

The third party gave what sounded like an airy huff of disappointment into his microphone. "Please? It'll be fun. I have all four of my game pieces here with me; the two forbidden lovers…player one and player two."

_Lovers_.

The word hit Purple like a sucker punch as it rang out over the intercom for everyone to find out, an echo of a short lived affair quickly going sour. Oh…oh no. Oh, please, no! The whole ship would hear! The whole ship would _know_! He slumped back against the door and the third party laughed again at his all-consuming, horrible fears. If any of this got out and word traveled, he and Red were doomed to deactivation! All Purple could do was squeeze his eyes shut and hope his crew was as stupid as he thought. Don't spiral out of control. Hold it together, you cannot fall apart! You're Tallest; they're not. You can play this off as a sadistic lie formulated by an equally sadistic madman. Yeah, that could work! There was still a way out, and as long as Purple could see that light at the end of this seemingly infinite nightmare of a tunnel, he was still in control.

The nefarious drawl continued. "Then we have the dirty General Nulol; our player three. I was hoping for the Inquisitorian Prime Minister, but I guess you'll do. Naughty, naughty coming on to player one like that."

Purple blinked. Player one? Was that…him? That would make Red player two. If the General was player three in whatever merciless plan the third party had, who was player four?

"Ah, and we come to my favorite game piece. You were the hardest to find, Lard Nar; my beautiful player four. I missed you all these cycles."

Lard Nar shot Purple a look of disbelief at the absolutely bizarre shift in the mood, the third party fawning and cooing out his name and savoring it like melting icecream before dipping sharply into a jaded, callous, hatred.

"But where were you when I needed you? When Vort needed you? You failed again and again until I wanted to hang you from the rafters of my prison cell. I'm sorry, brother, but I have to take matters into my own hands if we are ever going to go home together."

"Brother?" Lard Nar stammered out gawkily, taking a few tentative steps and glaring up at the camera. "You're no brother of mine! My brother's name is Slad Nuch, and he would never be stupid enough to put Vort in harm's way like you have!"

Another sigh of frustration into the mouthpiece. "Prisoner 432 tried his best to force player one and player two to sign over Vort for me. But, the time for peace and negotiation has long since ended, just like his pathetic failure of a life."

Lard Nar's beady eyes widened behind his goggles and he let out a sudden cry of brutal, guttural terror before dropping to the floor in a fit of raw, untamed sobs. It was true; his brother was dead. His only family, a beautiful, bright light in a sea of darkness snuffed out and left to rot like Urb Yen. The other translators panicked, swallowing him whole in a joint embrace as he wailed out his lost brother's name, the haunting, visceral sound of his agony piercing the bewilderment of Purple and all those loitering fearfully in the corridor.

"You took them from me!" Lard Nar bawled, choking on thick rolling tears. "Y-you took Urb Yen and Slad Nuch! T-they were my family!"

There was a sharp scoff over the static of the loudspeaker, followed by the tutting of a merciless tongue. "I can be your family. They were _failures_, Lard Nar. Failures have no place in the New Resisty." There was the sound of two gloved hands clapping together. "Now, about this little game. I've divided the playing field accordingly; player one, Purple, and player four, Lard Nar, are on the bridge side of the field. Player two, Red, and Player three, General Nulol are on the escape side of the field."

Purple squinted up at the camera, thoroughly baffled and completely unamused by the smeetlike complacency of the third party's wishes. "Woah, woah, woah. I'm not following."

Nulol piped up from behind the door, breaking his long dumbfounded silence. "What do you mean, escape side of the field? What are you playing at?"

"Allow me to explain. Our exciting game will take place in the dark. In a few minutes, I am going to cut the power to the entire ship and make you all blind. Purple and Lard Nar will have to prove to me that you all aren't failures by going to the bridge and manually restoring power to the ship. If you can do this in ten minutes, I won't assassinate Red and General Nulol. At the same time, Red and General Nulol will be given access to Nulol's ship and may leave at any time if they don't trust their teammates to restore the power. But, if they choose to leave and save their own lives, I will assassinate Purple. No one is allowed to help you in any way once the game has begun. Don't try to break my rules; I've been planning this for a while and have fail-safes in place should you try anything risky. Let's just say the whole ship will go up in flames."

"Why the hell would you do any of this!? This is sick! There's no point!" Red cried out from beyond the door.

"Oh, but there is a point. If General Nulol and Red die, I can convince Inquisitoria and the Control Brains that Purple and Lard Nar were staging a coup together, leading to a war between your people, and allowing my plans to go off without a hitch." He laughed deviously. "If Purple dies, on the other hand, I can blame Red and General Nulol for staging his assassination under the guise that Red paid Nulol to off him so he could have the Empire to himself. The Control Brains will deactivate Red and go to war with Inquisitoria over the death of their beloved Tallest, once again, only ending in your mutual destruction and the independence of my planet."

"But why?! Why not just destroy everything or go after Vort directly?" Red countered. "Why go through all the trouble?"

"Eh." The voice sounded passive. "I thought it would be fun to play with my food for a little while. I guess the politically correct term would be revenge. You've tortured millions of my people and thrown them in prison. I rotted there with them for...I don't know how long. So, that's what I've done to you; I'm going to torture you and I've made your own ship into a prison. Still, it's not even a taste of what Vort has experienced."

Purple threw his hands on his hips to try and look menacing, unsure if he could believe the disturbed, quaking voice. He glanced down the hallway, noticing a few Comms Officers frantically working to try and hone in on the signal with little success. If the third party wasn't bluffing, they were in for some serious trouble.

"And what if none of this works? What if Lard Nar and I get the power back on and Red and the General don't run away, like I hope they don't!" He called through the door, hoping his partner would hear him. "What if we win?"

"You won't." The third party yawned uninterestedly. "But, I suppose if you somehow do win, I can let you walk free…for now."

Purple wasn't buying it. "And what if we break the rules? What if I just walk away and refuse to play?"

"Then I'll have to kill you all with the explosives I've rigged over the past week. Don't bother checking; I've hidden them well. They'll go off if you quit in the middle of the game or try anything outside the rules, killing not just you but everyone on board. If you abide by my rules and behave, I'll disarm them when we're finished."

"Lies!" Nulol's voice growled from behind the panel. "This is all a ploy to scare us into compliance!"

"Interesting. Are you scared, General? Is it true or is it not? Do you really want to risk it?"

Purple opened his mouth to continue the argument with a feverish retort but was cut off by the piercing screech of something slamming into the microphone, momentarily deafening everyone aboard the ship.

"Decisions, decisions, my Tallest! I'll allow you all five minutes to deliberate before we begin, and you are not to begin until the lights go out. After that, you will have ten minutes to complete your task." The voice cleared his throat. "And, Lard Nar? This is your final chance to show me you're not a failure. Don't disappoint me again."

"But I don't even know you! Why are you doing this?!" Lard Nar sobbed, shoving the team of translators away from him with a swift jerk. "This is not the way to an independent Vort! If we go to war and Inquisitoria is destroyed by Irk, we will lose the atmosphere they have created! Our people will die, do you not understand that?!"

There was no response. A muffled click resounded through the hallway as the third party ended his terrifying, sadistic transmission. Almost immediately, Purple ran through hundreds of possibilities in his mind, piecing together the shaky first steps of an escape plan but not quite reaching a stable enough conclusion. First, this guy could be bluffing. This could all be some sick ploy to bide time for Irk knows what he was actually planning. But there was also the possibility that he was telling the truth and that all of their lives were in imminent danger of execution. If that was the case, if he and Lard Nar didn't get the power back on in time, Red and General Nulol would die. Alarm and sheer nauseating panic inched into the back of Purple's frazzled mind and his breathing quickened to a slow pant. He couldn't risk losing the love of his life. Not again. No…_never_ again. But, if either Red or Nulol left through the escape pod the third party would open up for them, Purple would die instead. He was too young to die; burdened with the frightful experiences of life but still not experienced enough to say goodbye to this universe quite yet. After everything he had been through; the terror of the Florpus, Urb Yen's horrifying torture, his gut-wrenching confession to Red, and the incredible night they shared together, they were going to die at the cruel hands of one faceless Vortian with a mental disorder. There would be no more Tallest, no more Red, and no more together. But…they were meant to be together. Purple bit back bitter tears as terrifying images of life without Red flashed in rapid succession. There would be no life. There would just be body bags and trips to the morgue followed by half-hearted tears and condolences at a hastily thrown together funeral before a new, younger Tallest was picked to override Purple and Red's memory in the Empire. That stunning broken smile, those harsh words laced with love, those deep orbs of crimson he lost himself in would all fade to dust. Purple narrowed his eyes and clenched his fists, feeling his profound panic turn to a blistering, bottomless fury. He refused to become an afterthought to the Empire! He refused to let his Empire be overtaken by a Vortian with a worse power complex than his lover. Inquisitoria would _not_ invade Irk. Vort would _not_ become independent. The third party _would_ die. Purple took a deep breath and shook away his tunnel vision, the magnificent image of Red plastered in the forefront of his mind and bouncing through every thought to spur his mounting tenacity. Huh. He had changed. The Florpus, the violence of the forest, all of the death and obliteration and blood stained flesh mangled Purple's psyche and made him tougher to the world. But what really impacted him, the one true thing that strung him out and wove him back together into a gorgeous tapestry was the beautiful feeling of being held close to the warm chest of the one he loved. The ghost of cold fleeting fingertips and palms pressed together, the feeling of gentle lips overcoming his and setting him ablaze, the deep, unfathomable feeling of being wanted and cherished…Purple finally had something, _someone_, to live for and he wasn't throwing that away! But…how? How could he find a way through this? How could he save Red's life again?

Purple cursed under his breath and kicked at Lard Nar who was still babbling about his dead brother on the floor. He needed his teammate to pull it together and suck it up for the good of everyone in attendance. Wait…everyone! Purple's antennae shot up at the thought as his eyes darted to the sea of faces crowding the hallway and talking amongst themselves in apprehensive, frightened whispers. The third party had said they couldn't call for help when his game started, but he didn't say anything about utilizing and giving orders to the crew _before_ it began.

Purple turned back to the safety door, pressing a shaky palm flush with the metal when his confidence spiked. "Red?" He called, trying to keep his voice as low as he could. "I have an idea."

"What?" Red's voice was resolute but filled to the brim with heavy traces of doubt.

"I'm going to send the crew to find the third party. I think you should do the same on your side." Purple explained hastily, pressing further into the door and almost feeling Red's warm touch against his cheek. "I'm going to go to the bridge with Lard Nar when the lights go out and hope the crew find this guy before we run out of time. With all of them looking, it shouldn't be hard, and if they can kill him before he's able to kill one of us, we have a chance to stop this." His voice wavered a bit when his newfound conviction hit a pothole. His throat was dry. "If they can't find him and we fail, you have to promise me…y-you have to promise me you'll leave in Nulol's ship."

"No! Shut up! I'm not leaving you, so don't even suggest it!" Red snapped back, a hint of mortified terror to his tone as his voice cracked under the pressure of losing his mate.

"Do I have a say in this?" Nulol's desperate voice chimed in, sparking a heated argument on the other side of the door. "If we take my ship we might be able to bring back reinforcements to disarm the explosi-"

"No! We're _not_ leaving him behind and you're _not_ going anywhere!" Red ordered hotly, beginning to spiral.

"This is ridiculous! This mole of yours is threatening to blow the ship if nothing goes to his plan! We can't risk that and we can't put all of our faith in...in _them!_ Your co-Tallest hasn't worked on a ship in cycles and the other one is a _terrorist_! Have you gone completely mad?! If you would let me leave and bring my men, we could save thousands of lives and put an end to this war before it begins! If I die, my people will attack yours. If you die, your people will attack mine. If _he_ dies, we can blame the Vortian Lard Nar for cornering him and killing him. There! No war! Your Control Brains will understand his death. He'll go down as a martyr and-"

"I said no! I'm not risking Purple's life and neither are you!"

"Why not? There's two of you! Your Empire can run with one Tallest! I've seen I happen! Forget about him and let's evacuate your ship! Is one life really worth the lives of thousands?!"

"His life is worth _millions_! How would you feel if that was your daughter over there?!"

"But it's not my daughter! He's one Irken! One! Why can't you see the bigger picture for us all?! You're blinded by your own...by your own..._affections_...? Oh...you...you and...?"

The General's voice trailed off and the furious argument ceased, leaving a heavy cloud of weighty, disgusting realization hanging over the three of them. He knew. Hopefully, he would keep it to himself. They couldn't afford to worry about him right now.

"General, this is none of your business. Please, Red, don't make this harder than it has to be." Purple's unstable voice was barely audible through the reinforced steel. "If I can't fix this, you have to find this guy and finish what we started. You have to promise me you'll keep going no matter what happens."

No response.

"Red? Speak to me."

"I can't, Purple! What you're asking me…I just can't!"

Desperation, longing, anguish, heartbreak. All terrible emotions rolled into a glob of menacing fear and despair and bogging them both down. Their relationship, a beautiful spark of something that could have been so much more, so much deeper, was dwindling away. Purple drew a shaky breath and closed his eyes, resting his forehead against the panel as they shared an intimate, agonizing silence. Purple needed him, needed to feel him, but he couldn't. They had only been together for a day. Huh...some day. He chuckled to himself when a terrifying, but peaceful realization came over him; he was alright if it ended here. In that day, Red had shown him whole worlds he never knew existed, breaking down the emotional walls and barriers Purple had thrown up over the cycles of hiding the very essence of what made him alive. He had shown him that it wasn't a crime to be his kind...no..._their_ kind. It wasn't a crime to love, and Purple knew now that it never was. They had shared their first kiss, their first date, their first intimate touch. Red had been his first everything. He had breathed into Purple and that one day had been greater than an entire lifetime. His only regret was not doing it sooner.

"We're running out of time. Tell the others what they need to do before it's too late. We still have a chance."

"Baby, please...I-I can't...I just can't." The agonizing phrase rang out like a broken record. "I-I can't do this knowing you could die! Just...Just let me figure something out! Let me try to get to you and we can face this together! There has to be a way! Please, Purple, you can't do this alone!"

At the sound of Red's hushed, desperate pleading, Lard Nar's gaze snapped up in disbelief, his eyes fixated firmly on the door as if he couldn't comprehend what he had just overheard. Purple knew he had finally figured it out just as Nulol had, but he didn't care. It didn't matter who knew anymore. What mattered was that Red was…_crying_. The waver in his partner's tone was terrifying and uncharacteristic, the resounding power in his voice choked away by his frantic terror. This was not the Red that Purple knew. The Red he knew would prioritize the security of the entire Massive, not the security of an individual. He would become blinded by his furious determination, not drowned out by his smothering anguish. His begging, the gentle sound of him weeping against the panel broke Purple, ripping him apart and shattering his world all over again.

Why? Why were they here, trapped in this surreal nightmare?

"This isn't you, Red. You're strong. You've always been strong and I need you to be that now."

"Shut up! Don't tell me what's strong! I-it's not ok! It will never be fucking ok!"

Purple listened to his mate choke on his words, hearing them die on his lips over and over again as he cried. If only they had been different. If their Empire had left Vort alone in the beginning, none of this would be happening now. He and Red would probably still be on their loveseat, following the same tedious schedule as the galaxy flew by outside. Purple swallowed the lump in his throat as the seconds ticked by, trying to find a way to quickly calm Red's frantic nerves. He blinked, something his partner had told him long ago coming to his attention.

"Listen...do you remember what you told me when you found out I was scared of the dark?"

More soft crying.

"Well, I remember. You laughed and asked me why, and I didn't have an answer. You said the dark is only as scary as I make it and, you know, that stayed with me."

"H-how the hell is that supposed to make me feel better, you idiot?!"

"Because...this is like that. I know you'll never admit it, but you're scared. You're scared I'm going to die and I'm scared too, but this is only as scary as _we_ make it. This guy wants to hurt us and right now you're letting him. The Red I know would find a way out and fight back, not let himself get beat up by a prick who's too scared to even show his face." Purple paused, listening closely when he heard Red sniff. "If I do this right, you won't have to leave me and neither of us will have to die." Purple tried to keep his voice level for both of them, not sure if he was trying to convince his partner or himself. "It's just a computer system. I used to install them in ships all the time." He stopped, lingering on the words hanging precariously off of his tongue. "We can do this and, I know I've said it a lot this week, but you have to trust me. We're going to walk out of this together."

Another drawn out silence had Purple cursing under his breath.

"Please, you have to keep it together, Red. If you can't do that for yourself, then do it for me."

Panic, hesitation, reluctance. The seconds ticked away dangerously, and Purple held his breath, refusing to say another word until he heard Red respond. He swore he almost felt his erratic pulse beating in time with his, a strange but welcome comfort to the potential death sentence Purple was willingly waltzing them both into.

"Fine." Red's voice was flat and hollow, his emotions betraying him as he attempted to pull himself back together. Purple was right; he was strong and he always had been. He was a powerful leader and a fierce warrior, and he couldn't let one terrorist tear them apart. No...Red was going to tear _him_ apart. "I'll tell the crew. But I don't care how hard you beg, Pur…I'm not leaving you. I don't care if I die as long as I die with you." He paused, thinking hard about what he was about to say. "Lard Nar?"

Lard Nar shot up at the sound of his name, still reeling a bit from the damming information he had just learned. "Ah! Yes, sir?"

"I hate you and your fucking race. All you do is cause problems for us all. But..." Red hesitated. "Just this once, protect him for me. You protect him like it's the last thing you'll ever do, because if you let him die, it will be."

Lard Nar glanced up at Purple with a long slow blink. "Alright." He wavered, but finally found his voice again. "You have my word."

A soft smile cracked Purple's exhausted face at the fortitude flooding back into Red's tone. There was the Red he knew and loved; the jaded, callous, angry Irken who had stolen him away. Purple wanted to cry along with him, but his tears refused to come, his gentle palm lingering a moment against the barrier separating him from his heart. It was now or never. Purple took a deep breath, swallowing his fear before turning and calling out to the frantic crowds pouring around him.

"Listen up!" He cried, immediately rewarded with a powerful obedience as Irkens of all ranks and heights fell into formation with one another. Under different circumstances, the disregard of class would have been beautiful. "I don't care who you are, or what your rank is! There is a terrorist aboard our ship, our _home_, and I'm counting on every one of you to find him!" He paused and felt his breath hitch. Backs straightened, fists clenched, eyes narrowed in prideful resolve to serve and protect their Tallest. "As soon as the lights go out, we have ten minutes to find the third party! We don't know what his name is, what he looks like, or even what race he is, but we know his voice! Use that to bring him down!"

Purple threw a fist in the air and the crowd exploded. War cries boomed, heavily clad feet thundered, and wide pink eyes seared and singed him with a fiery nationalism Purple hadn't seen from the Armada in cycles. On the other side of the door, another patriotic wave rang out crisp as day, Red's strident voice breaking through the electric atmosphere and vibrating up Purple's antennae to fill him with a newfound vigor. He had told himself that he wouldn't just die for Red, he would _live_ for him, and Purple was finally grasping the totality of what that promise truly meant. They were going to war for Irk, for the safety of their race, for their control over Vort, for their slipping grip on Inquisitoria, and for each other. But, they were also fighting against the now corrupt death machine that had once been their precious ship, turned rogue by foreign code and destructive motives. There was no telling what the third party could do with the Massive until Purple and Lard Nar could bring it back online and under their control, and not knowing what they were up against made Purple's pulse skip. He willed his breathing to calm, sifting through PAK memories of his time rebooting corrupted computer systems. It was simple; get into the main control panel below the navigation's deck on the bridge and remove the casing. There would be an internal silver tab he would need to pull out to expose the logic board; the tiny, five inch long brain of the ship. Lard Nar's hands were small, and he could reach back far enough to unhook the connector to the logic board while Purple performed a manual diagnostic of the ship. Then, all they would have to do is replace the connector and the ship should be theirs. It was almost too easy...there had to be a catch. There was always a catch.

Crackling.

Static.

A single finger tapping on the microphone to alert his captives to the start of their lethal, vicious game.

"Quite the display of patriotism; I'm impressed." The voice rang out like silk, smoothing and caressing the crowds with an unwanted trill. "But, of course they will never find me. I am _you_. I am hidden in plain sight. But I digress." He chuckled darkly before giving a final warning. "Say your goodbyes to one another. I'm sure you'll never speak again."

Purple glared up at the camera and spat, earning another devilish laugh in return. He glanced down at Lard Nar who wiped his salty cheeks on the back of his sleeve before giving a resolute nod and readying himself to run. Purple braced himself against the floor as the crowd parted, ready to sprint as fast as possible to the bridge and end this mess. Please…someone please find this bastard. Find him and shoot him between the eyes!

"Red?" Purple called, narrowing his eyes and going rigid, his pulse deafening in his antennae as the third party started a leisure but ominous countdown.

_5_.

"Yes?"

"You said you'll wait for me?"

_4._

Claws dragging frantically across steel.

"Always. Just don't take too long."

_3._

A shared nervous laugh as muscles tensed. Vision blurred to the long corridor stretching for what seemed like miles. Lard Nar lowered next to him, biding his power. You can do this. You _have_ to do this.

_2._

"...Red?"

"...Yes?"

_1._

"I'll see you on the other side."

* * *

Ooh that third party, though. Tell me in the reviews what you guys think. I'm curious.

_**UPDATE TO POSTING SCHEDULE (PLEASE READ):**_ Since we have so many returning guests without accounts following this story, I have decided to implement a set update schedule, and it only took me 14 chapters to get there! Horray for horrendous irresponsibility! **We will now be posting new chapters every Sunday and Wednesday at 10:00 pm Central Daylight Time (UTC -5), starting with this Sunday, October 6, 2019.** That way, you guys don't have to keep checking back and waiting. As always, reviews are appreciated, and I thank you for your support.

(Beta read by Tom on 10/3/2019. Grammatical errors corrected and updated.)


	15. The End of an Era

I just read our most recent comments and you guys are literally making me lose myself over your little music fight. As always I will go on my usual author rant and say thank you to all of our returning readers and hello if this is your first run through of "My Kind!" Welcome and we appreciate you!

Keep those reviews coming, lovelies! I'm challenging you to get to 150. We're sitting at 138 right now so if everyone dropped just one on this chapter, we can make it!

_ALSO;_ I just heard that Jhonen Vasquez confirmed in Pixelalt 2019 in Mexico that the Tallest were killed by the Florpus and I'm honestly sad because they've always been my favorite characters on this show ever since I was a kid. I mean, as much as he changes his mind about the show's canon there's always doubt but damn man. Damn. RIP snarky tall boys.

**Chapter rated M for graphic depictions of violence, mild depictions of blood, brief heavy language, and mild smoking. No children allowed without a signed permission slip from a parent or guardian. I'M NOT GONNA LIE THIS IS GONNA BE SAD. I mean, you guys already know how fucked up this fic is if you've made it this far, but this definitely ISN'T fluff this time around. Just a warning.**

* * *

**The bridge side of the playing field;**

"Good luck, my Tallest and my little brother! Let's see if you can find your way to the bridge blind! Your ten minutes begins…now!"

At the sound of the third party's ominous chuckle, Purple flew down and grabbed Lard Nar before instinctively throwing out his PAK legs and taking off down the corridor like a rocket. One by one the lights of the Massive buzzed and sparked, clicking off as the crew shot frantically in every direction, throwing open doors and hatches in a fanatical, panicked search for the beast terrorizing their ship. The darkness crept in on Purple from every angle as Red's words echoed in his head, driving him forward.

_It's only as scary as you make it._

He took a deep breath and took a sharp left as he ran, readjusting his loose grip around Lard Nar's tiny waist and slinging him up over his shoulders, feeling him dig his tiny fingers into his shoulders through his jacket. He could practically smell his teammate's fear as the Massive became completely devoid of light, stopping Purple hard in his tracks. Dammit! He couldn't see anything. The sound of heels sprinting around him bogged down his sense of direction as he tried to keep his bearings, his ocular implants flicking on behind his lenses as he strained to make out shapes through the intense gloom. Suddenly, a blinding light seared his retinas from above as Lard Nar fumbled with his goggles, clicking them on and projecting out a powerful stream of florescent yellow light that cut through the darkness before them. Purple didn't have time to thank him, continuing their frenzied, muscle burning trek to the third floor where the bridge waited. With the power cut off, the elevator definitely wouldn't be an option. Think! Taking the passageway the entire way to the bridge would eat up too much precious time; where else could they go?

"The emergency hatch!" Lard Nar pointed suddenly to a small hatch halfway down the corridor, as if he could hear Purple's thoughts. "It should go all the way up!"

Purple squinted through the faint light, spotting the hatch and lurching when his mechanical legs skidded to a stop beneath it. He forced himself as high as he could, extending his PAK legs to their limit and balancing precariously as Lard Nar made quick work with the latch, forcing the heavy hatch open and struggling to hoist himself up before bracing himself and extending a hand down. Purple immediately took it and pushed off hard from the floor, letting his teammate take the brunt of his weight with a pained gasp.

"A-a little help would be n-nice!" Lard Nar shrieked through gritted teeth, scrambling to keep his hold on Purple's wrist until he was able to hook his PAK legs into the frame and pull himself up. Lard Nar let go and stumbled back, out of breath, reaching up with shaky arms for Purple to pick him up and immediately slumping against him when he slung him back over his shoulders like a rag doll. "I-I think you almost killed me…"

"Geez, it's not _my_ fault you're so small." Purple objected hotly, fumbling to keep his mechanical hold on the rungs of the ladder as he made his way up through the insufferably tight space, startling in the dark when the intercom blared once more.

"Nine minutes, gentlemen! Nine minutes!" The third party's annoying voice was nearly busting with exhilaration as he tried to keep himself collected. "Better hurry if you want player two and three to stay in one piece!"

Purple swallowed his panic and pushed himself faster, the heavy dead weight of Lard Nar pressing on his PAK dragging him down as he climbed. Had they really used a whole minute already?! Oh, Irk, time was flying by dangerously fast and all Purple could see with every blink was Red stuck behind the safety door with the ignorant menace that was General Nulol. The General had suggested they leave Purple and Lard Nar behind to die and he desperately hoped Red could keep him from getting on the ship; they still had nine minutes and that was more than enough to reach the bridge and work his magic on the computer…hopefully.

The second floor rapidly came and went as Purple forced himself on, feeling Lard Nar sling his legs over his shoulders when he regained some semblance of strength.

"We're going to die, aren't we?" He whimpered against Purple's antennae. "That General is going to leave and kill us both!"

Purple grinded to a hasty stop when they finally came to the third floor, pulling them both up onto the small platform as he caught his ragged breath. "Quit being so negative! I trust Red to keep us safe and so should you!" He reached out and tugged at the latches of the hatch, blinking in terrified surprise when they only moved so far and jammed. "What? They're stuck?!" He yanked again, nearly throwing Lard Nar off. "This is supposed to be an escape hatch!"

There was no way the door was opening manually. Purple thought quickly and lowered himself down, trying to trust his instinct without letting himself falter. Ok, this was just a minor setback; he could do this. He sifted through his PAK extensions, throwing out his lasers and setting to work haphazardly melting the lock, squinting furiously against the neon light as he made a long, clean cut through the thick metal. Lard Nar shrunk back at the shower of blinding hot sparks thrown in his face, blinking through the glimmer when he noticed the incredible precision of Purple's work.

"Wow," he breathed in awe when Purple finally pried off what was left of the mangled latch, kicking the hatch in and bringing his PAK legs back out to hoist them up and out with surprising grace. "Under different circumstances I may have the mind to compliment your work."

The bridge was in sight and Purple went for it, following the trail of pale yellow light Lard Nar's goggles put off with a shaky smirk. "Thanks. I've done a lot of welding in the past."

Lard Nar jumped down when they finally burst into the bridge, scattering a group of communications officers fiddling frantically with the internal wiring of the Massive's main computer system, illuminated by the distant, shimmering starlight pouring in through the immense viewing port. Purple felt his breath hitch and his pulse go erratic at the sight of his and Red's command chairs up on the main platform, glaring ominously back and reminding him of the abysmal carnage that had happened the last time he was here. Vivid images of crushed, twisted bodies and gooey pools of bright pink blood oozing over the floor bounced through his mind as his PAK rocketed him right back into the profound horror and devastation of the Florpus. Phantom screaming and the sounds of hundreds of little, brittle bones crunching echoed through his head and he could almost smell the bitter stench of burning plasma that had ignited and nearly burned him alive. The body count…the agonizing wailing and gagging of forced suffocation…the millions of unsettling, contorted forms he and Red were forced to take…This is where their terrifying journey had begun, where he had decided that he wouldn't let Red die no matter the cost. Every fiber and cell in Purple's body screamed for him to turn around and run and never look back, to leave this nightmare of a place where he once found his personal power and peace. Now, it was only an agonizing reminder that he almost lost the one Irken he loved and needed more than anyone in the universe; it was here he was going to almost lose Red again.

"Purple! Help me! We're running out of time!"

Lard Nar's frenetic accent pulled Purple out of his lurid visions and he shook himself of the horrendous thoughts plaguing his fractured psyche. Stop it and focus! Everything is still alright, and you need to keep it together for Red. He's still alive; keep it that way.

* * *

**The escape side of the playing field;**

"Come on, Pur, come on." Red breathed to himself as he furiously paced the corridor, refusing to take his eye off of General Nulol, who had slumped against the hatch and slid to the cold floor in a fit of livid, unrelenting chatter.

"You know I'm right! We need to leave, now!" He hissed out again through the void. "You're absolutely maddening! Why can't we evacuate the ship and be done with this nonsense!?"

"No." Red froze and snapped back, glaring him down with eyes that could cut through steel before resuming his jittery pacing. "I've seen Purple's work. He'll get it done."

Nulol rolled his wide, crimson eye in distasteful complacency and pushed up from where he sat, stalking towards his teammate and throwing out an enraged feeler in his direction. "Alright, I'll humor your fantasies. Suppose he somehow _does_ manage to bring the power online to your ship." He growled ardently, and Red tried to ignore him. "What then? Do you really think this terrorist is going to let any of us go? He's determined to start a war between our people to take his planet, and he's going to find a way to see that through! You're just prolonging our deaths and if we don't leave, your Empire will be left without a Tallest! If one of you dies, yes, it's a tragedy, but if both of you die, you're risking leaving your planet and your people without protection!"

Red didn't reply but continued his fast-paced stride against the terrifying validity of Nulol's logic, clenching his teeth and trying to hold back the guttural anger rising in the pit of his stomach. Now was not the time for an outburst. He had to hold it together not just for Purple's sake, but for Nulol's and their weakening alliance. Red was convinced if he lost his temper, any chance of forcing the General to sign a truce after this was finished would slip away. He took a long slow breath and turned away, making his way to the other end of the hall and catching sight of the faint glimmer of Nulol's pale cerulean ship. Red wanted to torch it, to reach into it's wiring and go to town cutting and ripping until there was no threat that his teammate could leave.

Nulol seethed after him as a pair of Elite officers rushed past to continue their frantic sweep of the surrounding floor. "Would you stop walking away and face this?!" He shouted, raspy warning echoing against Red's antennae and pushing him further to his dangerous edge. "You're a leader, so _lead_! You're supposed to protect your people, not worry about one disposable mechanic who ruins everything he touches!"

Something boiled over and snapped deep in Red's mind, his PAK trying to quell his surge of deep, intense rage to little avail as he reared back and spun on his heel. Nulol didn't have time to defend himself as Red landed a hard, bone-crushing punch to his mouth, forcing him back against the wall and bracing for another.

"Shut up!" Another powerful punch to the jaw. "This is _my_ Empire!" Nulol frantically dodged Red's assault, slipping away as he made hard contact with the wall. "Purple is _my_ co-Tallest and _my_ partner and I'm not going to let some washed up, pathetic excuse for a general leave him for dead!"

Nulol found his rage, mounting a ruthless counterattack and spitting venom in Red's direction as he flew forward, reversing their roles and biting down hard on his shoulder with an animalistic snarl. Red cried out through his anger and threw out his PAK legs, prying the seething general from his skin and feeling his two razor-sharp mandibles take away fabric and flesh, leaving behind traces of viscous venom to seep into the wound.

"Foreign liquid entering your bloodstream." His PAK warned at the sting of Nulol's poisonous toxins eating away at him and immediately blurring his vision. "Working to cleanse your system. Please remain still."

"You're not fit to be leader of the Irken Empire!" Nulol thwarted irately, dodging again and dancing with Red's quick mechanical extensions as his movements began to slow, taking advantage of his increasingly woozy state as he tried to land another uncoordinated blow. "You're weak to your affections and too much of a coward to put an end to this! All for what? _Love_? Your enemies won't stop for love, kid. You and your little…whatever he is will learn that when you get everyone here killed!"

Red fought to stay alert when a freezing rush flooded through his veins, chilling him to the core and forcing him to shiver violently as his PAK fought to rid him of the dreadful, disgusting poison pounding through his body. He wavered precariously and tried to stay upright, making a halfhearted attempt to shake the muffled sounds of gasping officers rushing to the scene, pistols brandished as Nulol crouched in his robes and hissed violently like a caged monster.

"No!" Red slurred pitifully, throwing out an unsteady hand when he remembered the asinine rules of the third party's game. If they received help from anyone else then…kaboom. "Stay where you are, I'm fine!"

The officers' eyes went wide when Red slumped hard against the wall and went into shock, his PAK legs failing him as he succumbed to the harsh feeling of groggy sleep that drug him down to the floor with a thud.

General Nulol threw his head back with a condescending hoot as Red watched him with a drawn out, bleary blink before falling limp. "Like I said; pathetic." He smarted with a conceited grin before straightening and turning on his heel with a wide victory wave. "I don't have to stay and put up with this. Give your pathetic co-Tallest my regards when you meet in the afterlife!"

The officers began to panic, calling out a garbled mess of frantic questions and terrified shouts to try and urge Red to force himself up and stop Nulol from leaving in the ship. Red gave a pained cough from where he sat and tried to open his mouth, finding his words stolen by his hazy mind. His PAK wasn't working to heal him fast enough as he caught sight of Nulol taking off towards his vessel in the darkness, robes fluttering behind him as he ran. No…_no_! He couldn't leave! If he so much as even touched the hull of that ship, the third party would murder Purple!

"Eight minutes, gentlemen! Eight minutes until one of your groups has to die! Oh, I wonder who it will be!" The third party's muted cackle laughed out through the internal speakers, rebounding through the long corridor. "Looks like player two is having a bit of trouble on his side! Poor guy; better stop player three before something tragic happens up on the bridge!"

A formidable surge of adrenaline flooded through Red's flaccid extremities at the infuriating threat, and the powerful instinct to protect his partner reignited the fight in him. He forced his foggy mind to haphazardly withdraw his PAK legs in exchange for his plasma lasers, struggling to take aim at the traitorous Inquisitorian sprinting down the passage before firing on a whim. At the last second Red's body gave an involuntary lurch when his PAK attempted to reboot his failing physical body with a shock to his spooch, causing him to miss and strike at the ceiling above his target. The General yelped and tried to dodge the spray of debris and paneling careening towards him but his aged body wasn't agile enough. Red watched with a faint smirk of profound relief as a mangled hunk of metal collided painfully with his back and pinned him to the floor as he shrieked. Nulol fought and thrashed, trying to free himself from his bonds as Red let his weight fall back against he wall. He'd bought Purple some time and himself a chance to heal, laughing weakly to himself as the wretched Inquisitorian struggled and cried out in pain. Serves him right; no one called Purple pathetic but Red.

_Give 'em hell, baby._

* * *

**The bridge side of the playing field;**

Purple struggled to tear away the leaden panel concealing the ship's internal brain, his breathing quickening at the sound of the third party's chilling update. Lard Nar was right; Nulol was trying to leave them for dead. Leave it to an Inquisitorian to bail on Irk and the greater good. Even still, there was only one name on his mind.

_Red_.

Was Red alright? Was the General putting up a fight? Purple hooked his PAK legs further into the lip of the rigid metal and strained against the intense weight, watching as Lard Nar struggled to keep his grip and do the same with determined fingers below him. No, Red could handle himself; right now he had to focus on getting the Massive online or they were really going to have a problem. Finally, there was an inelastic, metallic snap as the panel tore away from its screws, sending the two reeling back from the rippling force of the break.

Purple hastily recollected himself and shared an apprehensive glance with Lard Nar before staring back to the jumble of wires and computer boards thrown together in a chaotic heap under the navigations desk.

"I probably should have mentioned this earlier," Purple began hesitantly, grabbing at the mess and frantically trying to remember what went where, "but I worked primarily with power cores and welding. Advanced computer systems weren't really my forte."

Lard Nar dug into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette and a plasma lighter, rapidly bringing it to his lips and setting it ablaze with a quick, impulsive puff. "Yes, that would have been good to know." He threw a critical glance to the side and exhaled a dense cloud of green smoke into Purple's face, forcing a heavy cough out of him.

"Really?! We're gonna die and you're smoking?!" Purple scolded crossly, scrunching up his face to the unpleasant smell and reaching into the nest of wires, feeling for the silver tab he needed to pull to expose the main interface.

"It helps me think!" Lard Nar retorted angrily, batting Purple to the side with a furious smack before taking his place. "Move! I used to be an engineer and helped build this ship!" His strained to reach the back of the compartment as he chewed on his cigarette, his yellow eyes lighting up with a twinkle when his fingertips brushed the edge of the tab they were searching for. "I think I found it!"

Purple held back a victory cry and flew up to the screen above the compartment, waiting for his teammate to remove the connector. "Pull it! Your hands are weird and tiny so you should be able to disconnect it!"

Lard Nar gave a hard yank on the little tab, feeling it slide out into his palm with surprising ease. "I'm not sure if that was a compliment or an insult."

"Seven minutes! Better hurry; those diagnostics take at least one whole minute to themselves!" The third party boomed through the bridge, forcing Purple to break out in an unconscious cold seat. "I have to admit, though, I'm pretty impressed so far with your teamwork."

Lard Nar picked up the pace, fumbling to find the stout wire holding the chip in place through the incomprehensible clutter, squeezing his eyes shut as he focused on feeling every bump and ridge. When he was satisfied he had found the right one, he held his breath and pulled it before immediately thrusting it back into the port. He yelped when a powerful electric shock rippled up his arm and jolted him back with a brash shout of surprise, his body tingling with static. He scrambled to regain his footing when his gaze snapped up to Purple's, eyes alight with worry when nothing happened.

"Why didn't it work?!" Purple slammed his hands down hard on the monitor in frustration, gasping when the screen responded to the powerful touch and whizzed to life beneath his palms, asking for an override code. His eyes lit up and he laughed out his triumph, flying down and hoisting Lard Nar up, the two sharing a joint shout over their impossible success.

Purple reeled himself back in and plopped Lard Nar down on the edge of the desk, trying to stay relaxed and collected as he furiously punched in his countermand code, cursing when he didn't get it right and had to start over with shaky fingers. Finally, with a bit of mental effort, Purple was able to break through to the main screen, eyes bouncing tentatively between the options presented to them and unsure which one to choose.

"U-uh…" he stuttered anxiously and scrolled through the list, searching for anything resembling a diagnostics program. He had only done this part a few times and tried to think back to when he had seen Red do it when Zim had overtaken their ship, coming up short through his growing alarm. "I-I don't know which one to run!"

"Goodness, do I have to do everything for you?!" Lard Nar jabbed and squinted down at the mishmash of Irken language splayed over the monitor, immediately reaching out and clicking a folder before rooting through it and selecting a program that Purple vaguely recognized.

There was a joyous ding of compliance as the computer pulled up a long sheet of code, Lard Nar pouring over each line with darting eyes, looking for anything out of the ordinary. Finally, after what seemed like cycles, he puffed on his cigarette and pointed to a single block of data. "Here! He's corrupted the restart sequence with a simple boot sector virus." Purple shot him a look of confusion and Lard Nar sighed, smoke curling from his lungs. "It keeps the computer from restarting the way it should. All I have to do is delete it and we should be good to go." He tried to remove the line of distorted code and blinked in fear when he couldn't, throwing a out a hot curse. "No! It's impinged on the disk! If we try to reboot now, it'll spread through the hard drive and destroy everything it touches. I'm going to have to try a few things so bear with me."

Purple groaned and ran his hands up over his face. "Ugh, but we don't have time for this!"

Lard Nar's fingers were a blur as he tapped and scrolled, furious determination locking him rigidly in place as his mind went a mile a minute. "Just be quiet and let me work!"

"Hey! Don't tell me to be quiet! This is all your stupid race's fault we're in this mess in the first place!" Purple snapped, willing his breathing back down to a manageable level.

"Again with the racism?" Lard Nar danced over the monitor and pulled up program after program; cutting, ripping, and forcing his way through the Massive's encryptions to the core of the issue. "When are you and Red going to let that go? And we wouldn't _be_ in this mess if your Miyuki hadn't destroyed my planet's atmosphere and enslaved my people!"

"Geez, and you think _I_ need to let go?" Purple countered and shoved his hands heatedly in the pockets of his jacket. "That was ages ago!"

Lard Nar sneered and shook his head in disappointment as he busted through to the virus with a smirk. "Have you ever thought that you're just as culpable as her?" He began, stripping the virus and destroying it with expert speed before returning to the original boot code.

Purple growled in the back of his throat, the stress of the entire situation scraping under his skin. "Give me a break! I instilled social programs on Irk for Vortian refugees!"

"Programs that discriminated against us and forced us to adopt Irken names and identification papers." Lard Nar sighed with relief when he was finally able to get rid of the flawed code, moving to begin the final diagnostic and reclaim the ship. "Do you know what it's like to be stripped of your identity and have to assimilate into a culture that isn't your own? I've been around this universe a lot in my day and seen beauty you can't begin to imagine. You're blind to the hundreds of amazing cultures around you; the music, the food, the ingenuity and stories of the people I have met have blown me away and made my own national identity stronger. If you would just open your eyes and look instead of take, you would realize that your Empire could be so much more if you would accept the beauty of peaceful diversity."

Purple went to shout back but stopped himself short, his flimsy argument dying on his lips as Lard Nar punched in the command and began the reboot, leaning back with bated breath to wait out the tedious process of repeated hardware checks. Did he…did he _actually_ have a point? Ugh, no! There was no way expansion wasn't the answer! The Control Brains had told them expansion and universal conquest would bring them power, success, and happiness beyond their wildest dreams. Purple had never really known what that happiness entailed, but he had vied after it as soon as he was inaugurated, wading through the star system with Red to try and conquer as many dismal races as he could and crush them in his vicelike grip. The Irken race was superior in every way; why should he apologize for the advancement of his people? He thought back to Urb Yen and Prisoner 432's stories. A pilot with an incredible nationalistic love for her people and a benevolent doctor once dedicated to helping Irkens develop newer, cleaner PAK technologies. From what it sounded like, they had been lovely and vibrant individuals at one point, until the invasion and stripping of Vort's core for Irk's massive generator broke them in ways he couldn't wrap his mind around. Then there was Lard Nar, a tiny, enthusiastic engineer and who helped bring the Massive, the Tallest's beloved flagship to life. He had been an avid supporter of the Irken Empire and had served Miyuki with pride, making sure everything was to her liking and that the Empire would flourish until, once again, Vort's core was taken. Huh. Purple swallowed with a blink of glutinous misunderstanding. Could his mechanical leaders be wrong again? The Control Brains had been wrong about same sex partnership, so…so what if they were wrong about other things too? A fleeting, ephemeral ghost of a thought crossed his mind when Lard Nar's gaze held firm as if to beg him to finally question his motives behind the mindless bloodlust he and Red had feverishly clung to since their birth; what would happen when the Irken Empire had conquered everything, and there was nothing was left to take? Would they have the happiness they were promised? But…what if they didn't?

"Six minutes! Woah it's getting a little hot in here isn't it? Those diagnostics had better finish in time, or it will _really_ start to get warm!" An excited giggle resounded, followed by the rustle of a bag and the crunching of chips against sharp teeth. "I'm going to check on how our sick little player two is doing across the ship. Hopefully his PAK can heal him before player three breaks free from his trap and makes his daring escape!" The third party hummed deviously between chews, Purple's eyes snapping up in disbelief to the camera hovering above them in the ceiling.

Purple immediately forgot his existential crisis as fear prickled in his spooch. "Sick?! What are you talking about?!" His voice cracked with terrible dread and the third party laughed mockingly back in his face, knowing he had Purple right where he wanted him.

"Oh, you ignorant little thing. Looks like our nasty player three gave player two quite the poisonous bite. Wish you could see how pathetic he looks right now, lying there bleeding on the floor without his beloved co-Tallest by his side." He cooed with a sweet warmth that unnerved Purple to the bone. "Tick tock, tick tock, player one! In his state, it'll be easy to silence that bad mouth for good when you fail!" The transmission ended again as the bridge erupted with terrified chaos over Red's unknown condition, the whole of the navigation team turning to Purple for support and morale that he didn't give.

Instead he lost his concept of self, staring blankly up at the camera as a tidal wave of sheer terror cascaded around him, feeling himself sink into a smothering pool of silent anguish and uncertainty for his future with Red slipping through his fingers. Lard Nar jumped up when he noticed Purple's hands twitch through his comatose look. Red was…R-Red was…

"Purple, he's bluffing!" Lard Nar shouted over the cacophony of questions and thundering footsteps, unsure if he was really speaking the truth or if Red really was in as dire a state as the third party claimed. "Don't listen to him! He's trying to use your feelings against you so you'll lose!"

Purple didn't move, averting his horrified gaze to the ground as the deep-seated thought of losing his lover settled in his chest, choking him when he tried to form some kind of response. He and Red were supposed to die together; they weren't supposed to fall divided with Red growing cold in the dark! He felt unwell, going pale to the disturbing, perverse thought. He had to leave. He _had_ to leave. There was no way he was staying on the bridge while Red was wasting away without him there to hold him close. No. He had to leave. He had to leave!

"I-I…I have to get out of here!" Purple stumbled gawkily over his words, breathing escalating and movements becoming frantic and erratic as his mind shorted completely. "I-I have to try and get to Red! I can't leave him there to die!"

"No! You can't!" Lard Nar groaned and glanced to the side as he flicked his cigarette butt to the floor, his horns curling back in abhorrence over what he was about to do. He couldn't let his teammate lose his sense of determination if it meant they could both die. He made a promise to Red to keep Purple out of danger, and, unfortunately, he was a man of his word.

Lard Nar quickly flew from his perch and bounded to where Purple stood, a blubbering, sweaty mess over the all-too-real fear of losing his partner. He reached out with trembling arms, hesitating a moment before he wrapped Purple's leg in a tight, shaky embrace, incredibly uncomfortable and unsure of what he was really doing or what it would achieve if anything.

"Eh…I-It's ok." Lard Nar began with a strained mumble, forcing himself to swallow his animosity for the Tallest and halfheartedly comfort his desperate teammate. "I-I know this doesn't mean much coming from your enemy, but I think Red would tell you to be strong, just like you told him." He paused, tiptoeing around his words and dropping his tone to a low whisper so no one else would hear and panic. "You can't break the rules and leave the bridge. If you do, the third party will blow his sector and he _will_ die."

Purple blinked at the bizarre coolness of Lard Nar's clammy body pressed to his, disbelief breaking through his frantic terror and dragging him back down from where he had been drifting away.

Lard Nar swallowed, finding an outlandish, unexpected comfort in Purple's body heat and fighting to not tighten his grip. "I'm scared. I-I don't want to die either." He admitted, his tone wavering out of fear. "But if I'm right about what I think is going on between you and Red, you have to use those feelings to finish what we started." He slowly let go and blinked up at Purple's astonished gawk, smiling a bit when he knew he had put the hook back in him. Lard Nar extended a hand up. "If you help me and we survive, we'll be even in this whole messy thing between us. Deal?"

Purple swallowed, feeling a wave of soothing peace wash over his frayed nerves at Lard Nar's truthful, profound words. He was right. If they left, Red would most definitely die. Here, they still had a fraction of a chance to put an end to this for good. He wavered and shrugged to himself at the bizarre proposal, but ultimately smiled back and took Lard Nar's tiny fingers in his with a resolute shake. It was strange; Purple never knew a Vortian could be so...comforting.

"Deal."

* * *

**The escape side of the playing field;**

Red squeezed his eyes shut at the sound of the transmission blaring overhead, knowing Purple would panic at his wavering physical state. Damn the third party and everything he stood for, torturing his partner like this. Purple was sensitive and thought with his emotions, Red silently willing him from afar to hold it together for the collective good.

_You told me to hold it together, Pur. Don't be a hypocrite._

He coughed weakly and cleared his throat, flexing his fingers and toes as pins and needles prickled over his pallid skin, Nulol's venom gradually being sucked from his body up into his PAK and promptly obliterated. It definitely didn't feel nice, every muscle in his body sore and groaning from the forced flush as his head swam from the disgusting rush.

"My Tallest, please, can I do anything to help you?" An officer begged, hanging over Red's shaky form as he attempted to push himself to his feet.

Red coughed again and braced himself feebly against the wall with an unsteady hand and a tiny noise of disapproval. Finally, his words gradually returned in the form of a raspy, disgusting whisper. "N-no." He began, appalled by the sound of his own voice as he tried to swallow. "I need you to find the third party. We have less than six minutes."

"But, sir!"

Red shot the officer a look of furious condemnation. "Don't question me."

The officer didn't argue further, eyes lighting up with fear before he saluted and hesitated, turning and taking off in a mad sprint down the hallway to join the rest of the crew in their furious search.

Red drew in a shaky breath and took a testing step, nearly tripping in the process but catching himself. He stopped and wavered before attempting to continue, feeling his strength grow by the second. His shoulder hurt as blood oozed lazily from the impressive bite Nulol had marked him with, irritated beyond belief that he had ruined his best suit. Maybe the old guy still had a little fight left in him after all.

Nulol gave a shout of terror as he watched Red slowly make his way to where he lay, ruthlessly pinned. "N-no! Stay away from me!" He barked, scrambling and scraping against the floor, tearing his dress robes in the process. "Y-You're insane, Red! Insane!"

Red shrugged out of exhaustion, wincing and gritting his teeth when his shoulder throbbed in pain. "Maybe. If you went through everything I have in the past two weeks you would be too."

"D-Don't think the Inquisitorian Federation will take this sitting down!" Nulol threatened darkly, glaring up at where Red swayed dangerously. "I've sent word out and Prime Minister Sledhob will soon know the Irken Empire bends to the wills of terrorists! Say goodbye to what was left of our pitiful alliance!"

Red cocked his head with a sluggish blink, still not awake enough to really comprehend the General's damming threat. Sent word? That was impossible. How could he do that from here? Red glanced down the long hallway to where Nulol's ship sat, squinting when he noticed the hatch had been thrown wide open. Wait…didn't he arrive with an advisory team?

Shit.

All of a sudden, a sharp, excruciating blow connected with the back of Red's knee, forcing him to cry out and crumple to the ground. Three Inquisitorian advisors strained against the massive hunk of metal trapping their superior, dragging him out from underneath his weighty bonds and ushering him on as Red reeled from the residual effects of the venom dulling his reflexes and the pain radiating up through his knee to his back. He tried to push himself up but collapsed hard on his chest, rolling sluggishly to his side with a groan. The universe really didn't want to give him a break, did it?

The sound of General Nulol's victorious laughter rang stridently in Red's antennae as the horrifying gravity of the situation at hand hit him like a sledgehammer.

"Oh, what an interesting turn of events!" The loudspeaker clicked on with a sly chortle as the third party narrated the events of Nulol's escape attempt to the rest of the ship. "I'm impressed with the ruthless disregard player three has for the rest of his teammates! Out of all the pieces on the board I was pretty sure _you'd_ be the failure, but bravo for proving me wrong! Five minutes everyone! Five minutes until I win and someone has to die!"

"W-what?" Red tried to force himself up once more, his limbs failing him as his PAK beeped out warning after warning to his rising stress levels through his pain. "Nulol! Don't do this!" He yelled frantically after the rogue General sprinting towards the gaping mouth of his massive ship. A group of officers gave chase and Red cried desperately after them, forcing them to grind to an abrupt halt. "Don't touch him! You'll risk killing Tallest Purple!"

Nulol froze and hesitated at the crushing desolation and misery lacing Red's tone, stopping short a few feet from the platform his advisors scrambled to climb up onto. He glanced back, narrowing his vivid eye in Red's direction before returning his attention back to the ship only to stop himself again.

"Please! Think about what you're doing!" Red tried to reason with him, his throat dry as he pleaded, a once logical, powerful leader reduced to begging with a lowly general. He drug himself forward with a growl, clawing pathetically after his now enemy. "The Armada saved your daughter when she was taken for ransom by the Boodie Nen! I fought in that battle when I was with the Elite and took a gunshot to the shoulder to save her life! Does that mean nothing to you?!"

Nulol's heavy expression softened at the mention of his daughter and his mandibles shivered with indecision. All of a sudden he looked utterly torn, an internal conflict raging through his frazzled psyche as he weighted his options. He glanced out at the sea of anxious but loyal faces of the Massive's crew, frozen in place in anticipation around their Tallest for whatever world-shattering decision the General decided upon.

"Red, I've always respected you as a leader, and I'll never forget what you and your people did for my daughter. But," He swallowed what looked to be a mix of heartache and unwavering willpower, "I can't stay here and risk the lives of my crew outside when the Massive explodes. Please try to understand that. You've had a good run and I wish you and Purple the best of luck." He gave a sigh of premature grieving. "I really do."

The world seemed to dull to a horrifying slow motion as the General blinked and turned away, reaching out for the railing of his ship's ascending platform with a long, shaky feeler. Red forced himself painfully to his feet as his furious crew cried out in a rush of vehement curses and slurs and jumped forward in a collective mob, disregarding the rules to the third party's sadistic, disturbing nightmare he had trapped them all in, overcome by a frenzied need to protect their Tallest. Nulol gasped and went to withdraw his feeler at the sudden onslaught, tripping over his long robes and flailing as he fell backwards, much to Red's horror, directly onto the platform.

No one dared move as a deafening silence fell over the bay, wide eyed faces darting back to where Red stood, jaw slack and antennae back in dismayed terror. No. It was over…he'd lost the game.

Purple was going to lose his life.

* * *

**The bridge side of the playing field;**

Purple threw his hands on his hips and puffed out his chest with a wide grin when Lard Nar's diagnostics finished and the crowed erupted with in a fervent, boisterous elation, headsets and gloves tossed in the air when the lights were restored and the rest of the bridge whirred back to life. Fire doors retreated back into the ceiling and the entire team flew back to their respective seats, checking over the gargantuan ship and comparing notes and damage reports. Lard Nar reached up and gave Purple a triumphant high five, reaching into his pocket and digging out two victory cigarettes, offering one up to his teammate. Purple took it with an elated grin of his own.

"You know, if you weren't such a monster, we would make a great team." Lard Nar lit his cigarette before passing his lighter up to Purple.

Purple laughed, lighting his own and taking a short draw on the herby mixture, coughing thickly when he couldn't handle the taste stinging at his lungs. "Right back at you. Man, how can you handle smoking a pack of these a day? This can't be good for you."

Lard Nar chuckled and reclined against the navigations desk, allowing himself to truly relax for the first time in days. "I smoke two a day. And I don't know. It's just a bad habit I picked up in prison. I've been trying to quit for cycles but I can never bring myself to go through with it."

The peace was short lived and fleeting, the intercom buzzing above them with a furious screech. The third party sounded out of breath as he ran to somewhere unknown, followed by the beeping of a keypad and the whoosh of a heavy door fazing open and slamming shut. "Good game, gentlemen, but it looks like I have to leave our little party unexpectedly! At least everything went according to plan!"

Purple withdrew his cigarette with another deep cough, glaring furiously up at the camera. "You're not going anywhere! We won the game and my crew is going to find and arrest you. You've got nowhere to go!"

There was a long pause followed by a noise of genuine disbelief. "Won? You actually think you won?"

Lard Nar took a step forward and narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean? We had four whole minutes to spare…of course we won."

"Lard Nar," The voice grew suddenly urgent. "I'll give you thirty extra seconds. Leave this terrible place and get to the escape pod. Please, brother I don't want to see you meet your end with these horrible beasts. If you survive, I'll send you a transmission to your personal base off of Moo-Ping 10's moon. Good luck."

Purple felt his cigarette slip from his long fingers to the floor as a pang of dread his him square in the chest. Escape pod? It couldn't be…they had…they had _lost!? _How?! He reached up with a groan and smacked himself in the side of the face. Nulol. It was all Nulol's doing, that horrid bastard! Without thinking Purple spun on his heel and yelled with a frantic wave out to the excited crew, abruptly cutting off their renewed vigor.

"Get to sector two! Move now!" He ordered frantically, scooping up Lard Nar against his will when he gave a peep of disapproval and dashing for the hatch. "He's going to blow the bridge!"

Almost immediately the third party's devilish laughter careened over the bridge in menacing waves, the crew letting out a joint screech and making a mad frenzied dash for the hatch.

"Clever Purple. Lard Nar is right; if you weren't such a monster, we could have had such an incredible alliance." The sound of an escape pod powering up buzzed loudly in the background, muffling his soft voice. "Your Red failed you and Nulol is preparing his escape now. Too bad…I was really hoping that loud mouthed thorn in my side would be the one to die. I'm beginning to believe he's immortal or something."

Purple forced the hatch open and threw Lard Nar through as he screamed and landed hard on his back. "Go now! _Go_!" He barked, overcome by his instinct to protect the Empire, pushing and shoving panicked officers and pilots through the tiny opening and tossing them over one another. He would not lose another crew. Not now, not today.

"Alright, boys, I'll be watching the show from the safety of my pod. Can't wait to see Purple burn to a crisp and Red and Nulol fall on Judgementia for his assassination. Ah, I can taste the freedom of Vort already when your Empires turn on one another!" He paused and Purple could practically hear the grin in his tone.

Purple watched in horror as a tiny escape pod shot past the main viewing port of the bridge and careened away from the Massive at blinding speeds, shooting off into the distance and disappearing from view. Something deep beneath the floor of the bridge groaned and creaked ominously, wailing out a deep guttural warning for the carnage that was to come, Purple's eyes widening as a Comms Officer tackled him around the waist and forced him through the hatch as a searing wave of heat blinded them both.

* * *

**The escape side of the playing field;**

Red stumbled forward with a yelp as a powerful shockwave ripped through the ship, knocking officers hard off their feet in the renewed light and throwing bodies around like dolls. The ship groaned and made a sharp left, veering off as an immense, gut-wrenching explosion rocked the bridge, obliterating the front right of the hull and tearing it to mangled pieces. Nulol yelled something and flew forward gracelessly, clamoring up into his ship as his pilot flipped the ignition, forcefully knocking the bay doors open and rocketing off into the cosmos to leave the doomed Massive in their wake.

"Oh boy, oh boy! Looks like it'll just be Nulol on trial! Red is gonna die too if he doesn't follow the cowardly General's lead!" The voice cackled and giggled out manically like a merciless, violent child. "I haven't felt a rush like this since I murdered that planetary conversion team on Vort all those cycles ago!"

Red frantically searched for a camera, stumbling around blindly in the chaos and locking eyes with one over the scream of the gargantuan bay door slamming back shut. Screeching alarm bells rang out and deafened him to the world, screams drowned out as frantic Irkens dove for Spittle Runners and escape pods as the ship continued to stagger and traverse ferociously out of its flightpath. As if reading his mind, the third party spoke back up, itching to prolong Red's agonizing torture and shatter him into millions of unrecognizable pieces.

"Mm! I watched that juicy explosion and there's no way anyone walked out of that! There's so much screaming and melting flesh…just…._beautiful_! Your beloved co-Tallest…your lover…is dea-" The intercom sputtered and died as the renewed lights flickered alarmingly, the internal mechanics of the ship boiling and melting away to nothing.

Dead. Purple was dead? No…he couldn't be…there was no way it was possible. After everything…he was just…gone?

"Sir! The evacuation sequence has begun! We must get you to safety!" A frantic Elite officer grabbed Red by the arm and drug him frenetically across the warping floor of the docking bay to Red's personal Ring Cutter.

Red harshly pulled away and went into a lucid, roaring shock, unable to comprehend the weight of what he'd just heard as he slumped hard against the hot hull of the ship, haphazardly keeping his paper thin mind from disintegrating as the officer fumbled with the latch.

Dead.

Dead.

Dead.

His domineering co-Tallest. His finicky partner in crime. His hilarious best friend. His beautiful sunshine and the gorgeous warmth in his hands. His short lived but bright burning lover. The very essence of who he was…dead. Red felt himself grow lightheaded as his pulse lurched. He gave a few slow blinks and stared vacantly at the floor, light going from his once bight eyes to be replaced by something much darker and decrepit.

Dead.

Purple had died alone.

Purple had burned to death.

Red hadn't been there to protect him.

The third party was gone; floating in the ether towards wherever he was aiming to go. It didn't matter anymore. Red had no more reason to fight…no more reason to live. He should have done something, tried to get to Purple through the door, tried to free him from his preventable, fiery end. They should never have come back to the Massive. They should have stayed in Naphrus 8 where they could have been together. Red should have found them a place away from the Armada to live out the rest of their lives in domestic bliss. He should have stepped down as Tallest and found a civilian job. He should have held Purple every night, should have learned to cook for him, should have given him the picturesque life he deserved.

_Should_ have noticed his affections sooner.

_Should_ have loved him harder.

_Should_ have made him his life partner.

_Should_ have married him.

_Should. Should. Should._

There were so many shoulds. So many possibilities and missed opportunities at happiness with the one Irken Red couldn't live without but was now forced to realize how cold life was without Purple's haughty complaining and attitude. He should have been there. Should have died with him. Should have burned in his place.

"Sir, the ship is failing!" The Elite officer waved a frantic gloved hand in front of Red's expressionless face, desperate to force him to move. "Please, there's nothing more we can do! Tallest Purple…he's gone! You're all we have left, sir!"

Red swallowed when his dulled senses began to creep back, reappearing as the most profound agony he had ever felt, tearing him in half and splitting his PAK in two as the sound of Purple's voice and memories of them together played through Red's ocular implants. No physical pain, no matter how severe, he had experienced in his life held a flame to the abysmal, empty void swallowing him whole. He crumpled to the ground and clamped a hand over his mouth, squeezing his eyes shut as he was overcome by the weight of never being able to hear his partner again, never being able to touch him, never being able to see that comforting, gorgeous smile. Loud sobs wracked his body as he folded in on himself, oblivious to the second explosion wracking the bridge a few floors up. He wished it would take him and force him to burn and suffer the same searing agony Purple probably felt in his last moments alone.

"O-oh Irk no!" Red cried uncontrollably through his hands. "F-fuck! No! No! _No_! N-no this can't be real! It's not real! It's not r-real!"

"Forgive me for what I'm about to say, sir, but we have to go _now! _I'm not giving you a choice!" The officer demanded, throwing his hands under Red's arms and straining to hoist him up the stairs and into the ship.

Rarl Kove met them at the top, helping the tiny soldier to strap Red into one of the many seats lining the ship, terrified Irkens of all ranks and heights fumbling with their own safety harnesses and waiting for the inevitable tremble and jerk of takeoff. The ship lurched and shuddered again as the hatch and landing gear ascended, and the pilot's urgent voice rang through the cockpit.

"Almighty Tallest Red secured. Prepare for immediate evacuation to Irk."

"No! We have to go back!" Red cried out uncontrollably through the fat tears streaming down his cheeks, Rarl Kove and his advisory team forcing him to sit with frantic hands. "We can't leave without his body! W-What if he's alive?! We can't leave him behind!"

"Sir," Rarl Kove piped up tentatively, "with all do respect, you are our highest priority right now. We have to move you to safety."

"Forget safety! I'm not leaving without Purple!" Red threw the lanky Irken ferociously to the side as an untamed rage overtook him, searing through his PAK and biological mind and blinding him to all rationality and logic he usually held. He unhooked his harness, flying to his feet but stumbling when the pilot forced their takeoff, following the flight path of Nulol's escape. "No! I'm ordering you to turn around!"

The pilot glanced back and shook his head with a wince, terrified of what Red's reaction would be. "Forgive me, sir, but we have direct orders from the Control Brains to move you to a secure location. Tallest Purple's body will be retrieved from the wreckage after it is determined that you are safe and the Empire is no longer under immediate threat."

Red couldn't contain his blistering rage through his searing tears, the others around him shrinking back in terror when gave a horrible, visceral cry of torment and pure, violent mania. He glanced out of the windshield and caught sight of the Inquisitorian Armada hovering less than a mile away, observing the Massive go down in a horrendous sweltering pyre of sizzling blue and orange flames. Nulol. _He_ did this. _He_ caused Purple's death. They almost won the game, almost had the third party in their grasp until the scaly, conniving, slimy monster of a General ruined everything and got his lover killed!

Rarl Kove threw his hands back up on Red's chest to try and force him down but Red had other plans. "You know, Purple always hated you!" He growled out in animalistic fervor and clocked Rarl Kove hard across the cheek, watching in satisfied fury as he fell back, unconscious. "That's for always making him feel like an idiot!"

"Woah! Sir, please, calm down! There is no need for anger!" The pilot worked himself up into a frenzy when Red stalked past the horrified passengers to loom over the cockpit. "We are moving you to a secure bunker on Irk!"

"Calm down?!" He seethed, grabbing the pilot by the shoulders and ripping him away from the controls before tossing him to the side. "You know what!? I...I loved him!" Red threw himself down in his seat and gripped the clutch as the crowd behind him erupted into confused gasps and appalled chatter at his hasty, under planned confession. None of it mattered anymore. He was already doomed, so he might as well be honest with himself in his last minutes of life.

"Yeah, you heard me! I _loved_ Purple! I loved him more than anything! I wanted to be with him until the day I died but now I don't get that chance!" A thought struck his perturbed mind and he chuckled darkly, eying Nulol's ship flitting in the distance. "Well…maybe I do." Another hot tear rolled down Red's cheek and he wiped furiously at his face as another body wracking sob shook him filling him with emotions his logical, usually stoic mind couldn't comprehend. He swallowed and drew in a shaky breath, running over the suicide mission he was proposing to himself. "I-I'm gonna die anyway! I'm gonna be deactivated for loving him! Fuck it! I'm not letting him die for nothing!"

The pilot pushed himself up from the floor as Red hit the throttle, the ship lurching forward towards Nulol's flagship at alarming speeds. Red reached up and flicked several switches in rapid succession, throwing out and warming the ship's heavily reinforced cannons for combat as the frantic Irkens behind him screamed.

"My Tallest, this is crazy! You'll kill us all! Please, sir, you have a choice! There's _always_ a choice to do the right thing!"

Red gritted his teeth when his pulse quickened, going white knuckled around the clutch at the rapidly closing distance between them and their target. "Don't try to tell me what's right and wrong, pilot! I know I have a choice and I'm taking it!"

* * *

**The (now mangled) bridge side of the playing field;**

Purple drew in a sharp inhale as his eyes snapped open and he forced the limp body of a communications officer from his chest, staring up at the billowing smoke pouring through the corridor and licking evilly at the scorched ceiling above him. What…? Where _was_ he? He coughed violently and pushed himself up, his antennae ringing from the force of the devastating blast, but slowly fading to be replaced by the hellish roar of crackling fire and creaking walls. Where…where were the others? He gagged on the rancid smoke and lowered back down to a crouch when he tried to stand, scanning the floor for survivors and flinching at the sheer number of bodies littering the extensive wreckage. He gasped when he noticed movement, catching sight of a blackened service drone clutching at his wounded elbow in a blank daze. Purple forced himself over and scooped up the little drone, prying the table from his head and tossing it to the side before slinging him under his arm as he blubbered and muttered to himself, covering his tiny mouth with the tattered fabric of his sleeve to try and filter out the ash from the fire. It was hot…so unbearably hot as flames curled and danced ominously around them. Rank didn't matter anymore; not at the moment. What mattered was getting out.

Purple cried out in panic when something grabbed and pawed at the melted sole of his boot and he stumbled back, squinting against he blistering heat threatening to consume his shredded, shrapnel ridden form. Two curled horns poked up from the disfigured rubble, one burnt and the other chipped at the tip; it was Lard Nar!

The battered Vortian gave a feeble wheeze of a cough from where he lay pinned under a torched beam as Purple gasped, kicking the heavy intrusion to the side and grabbing him by the hand. Lard Nar didn't speak but immediately yelled out in pain when his teammate slung his fragile, bruised body up around his shoulders, feeling him burry his face instinctively into the collar of Purple's jacket out of fear before going limp. The Massive creaked and groaned, metal popping against the horrific blaze. They couldn't stay here. Purple swallowed against his raw throat and pushed forward, remembering his and Red's personal escape pod just off of the bridge and praying any other survivors were able to make it to the bay and survive. Every step was excruciatingly painful as Purple waded through the flames, forcing his way back through the hatch to the bridge with shallow, choking breaths. He scrambled and clawed his way over bodies, remembering the horrendous blood-curdling massacre of the Florpus, unsure of which horrific incident was worse. Finally, after what felt like cycles, he spotted the two-seater pod, barely hanging on to the port outside in a tangle of sparking wires and destroyed magenta metal. Purple narrowed his eyes and covered his mouth with his free hand, adrenaline and his will to survive the only things keeping him from passing out. He glanced up through the pyre to the huge Irken flag that had always been draped over the far wall of the bridge, tattered and singed but the immense emblem splayed over the crimson background was still in one piece. Beautiful….absolutely beautiful. Even here, in this excruciating pit of torment, blood, and heat, there was a strange serenity that gave him the fortitude that he needed to keep on.

Purple forced the hatch open and dipped down, letting Lard Nar's unconscious form slip from his shoulders as he dropped the service drone. Both were a complete mess and no help, one completely limp and unresponsive, but surprisingly still breathing, and the other shell-shocked and rocking furiously from the grisly horror he had witnessed. Purple would have to fly them out himself, slamming the hatch shut as the pod broke free at the last second, drifting gently away from the ruined ship and out into sea of stars enveloping them like a welcome embrace. He cleared his throat of the sticky ash he found there before flipping the ignition and punching in his override code into the manual interface of the cockpit. Thank Irk the ship still worked. It welcomed him with a warm, robotic greeting before lazily sputtering away from the Massive, the mangled hull drifting away into the distance.

Purple slumped back in his seat with wide eyes and an erratic pulse when another powerful explosion ripped through the bridge, obliterating what was left of the front end of the ship. He…he was just standing there. If he hadn't woken up when he did, he would be gone; cast adrift to the suffocating blackness of space or burned to a painful end in the fire. The blast triggered a chain reaction of smaller explosions to ripple across the spine of the ship, effectively splitting it in two and crippling it beyond repair. The best and brightest of Irken-Vortian engineering, gone in the blink of an eye. Purple gave a breathy chuckle at the irony of it all. The third party wanted to sever his ties with Irk for good…what better way than to dissolve the last piece of substantial weaponry they their people had built together? Still, watching the very ship that he had lived on for most of his life, that he had started his career and his reign as Tallest on, fall away in shards like it was tin was agonizing. It was the end of a formidable era; the end of what was left of Miyuki and Spork's collective legacies. At least he had made it out…at least he was alive.

Purple shot up when a pang of viscous, overpowering dread hit him in the stomach, twisting his organs in knots as a single name stabbed him like a knife.

_Red_.

How could he have forgotten?! Where was Red?! Had he made it out?! Was he alive?! Purple fumbled to frantically pull the communicator from the dash of the pod, ripping it away and furiously flipping and scanning through transmission channels for any signs of that voice. That blaring, nasally, bossy, beautiful voice. He squeezed his eyes shut as he clicked through filters, beginning to assume the worst when all he received was the menacing boom of static roaring back at him.

_Please! Please! Please! Oh Irk please be alive! Please be alive! Please!_

Still static.

Purple shuddered and hugged his bruised knees into his chest, burying his ashy face into himself as he neared the last few channels. What if…he hadn't made it out? What if Red was…

"-gonna kill-… fo-…tak-…from me!"

Purple shot forward at the strident but broken sound, nearly whacking his head against the windshield as he dropped the communicator with a startled shout. He scrambled to retrieve the little device from the floor, flicking his antennae forward when he squeezed the button on the side once more, hoping he hadn't imagined what he thought he just heard.

"-you-...des-...t-...die Nu-...a-...!"

There was no mistaking it; it was Red. It was actually Red! He hadn't imagined it; they were both alive! Purple threw his hands in the air with a wild cry of elation and shaky relief, laughing when Lard Nar and the drone broke out of their collective daze with a joint screech of terror. They had both made it! His partner was alive!

"Red?!" Purple cried into the device, not caring how hoarse he sounded. "Red?! It's me! I-I'm alive! I made it out in the escape pod!" No response. Purple cursed under his breath and smacked the communicator against the ball of his hand before trying again. "Red? Pick up! Where are you?"

Suddenly, the signal latched on to Red's horrific, warlike voice and Purple blinked in disbelief. "Give up, Nulol! I've been an ace pilot twenty times over and I'm not about to break my streak for you!"

What? That couldn't be right. Red was…_attacking the Inquisitorian fleet?_ Why? Purple did a frantic double take when he caught sight of Red's powerful, glittering Ring Cutter zooming in the distance, bombarding Nulol's ship with heavy cannon fire as tiny Inquisitorian stingers zipped frantically about, attempting to land a damming blow to his partner's ship with no success. Red shot them down one by one with ease, each of them spitting and sputtering out of control before careening out into the vast blackness of space or brutally combusting. He didn't let any escape pods get past him, firing ruthlessly on each and every one in a furious, blind rage.

"Red! What the hell are you doing?!" Purple wailed into the communicator, setting his sights for the dogfight and shooting forward as fast as the little ship would take them. "Stop! You're going to start the war that the third party wanted!"

His words didn't reach Red's end and a pang of heavy realization hit Purple at the idea he had unwittingly suggested to himself. Oh Irk…was this…was this his plan the whole time? Everyone knew Red was a little unstable and perpetually on edge, but what if the third party had planned to capitalize on that very volatility from the get go? What if the game and the explosions had all been an elaborate distraction to draw Red into the horrible, delusional frenzy he was now trapped in? If that was the case, Red would open the first line of fire into a new Irken-Inquisitorian conflict and the third party's plans for bloodshed and destruction over Vort would undoubtedly go off without a hitch. Red would be pinned as a traitor and have to stand trial on Judgementia where he would be stripped of his rank and deactivated for his war crimes!

Purple flinched as Red's ruthless cannon fire crippled one of Nulol's thrusters, sending the ship into a lethal spiral. "If you hadn't tried to leave, Purple would still be alive!" Civilians and officers screamed wildly in the background of his partner's makeshift, one Irken organic sweep.

Alive? But he _was_ alive! Did Red think he was dead? Purple gave up on his frantic attempts at reaching Red through transmission, leaning over the dash in ferocious resolve and forcing the pitiful ship to its max speed, nearly flooding the power core with a deadly dose of radiation. He didn't care. He had to show Red that he was alive and put a stop to this before he killed the General.

As soon as he grazed the hull of Red's formidable ship, Purple was knocked back by the impenetrable shockwave of his final cannon strike, watching as the vivid, retina searing discharge collided directly with the bridge of Nulol's ship, terminating it completely and sending out a deadly, noxious minefield of shrapnel and debris in all directions. Nulol, Inquisitoria's most prized General, was dead by the hands of his co-Tallest. It was over.

"P-Purple, what's happening?!" Lard Nar managed to wheeze from the floor, the frantic service drone clinging to his arm as he screamed.

"Shut up, not now!" Purple ordered hotly, zipping expertly around smoldering titanium and singed computer systems thrown in his wake. "Dammit, Red, why do you have to be so good at your job?" He breathed to himself, skimming the surface of Red's massive ship once more but again being cut off, this time by a shower of thick glass threatening to slice through his external cooling units.

Purple gritted his teeth in frustration and yanked up hard on the clutch, bringing the ship into a steep incline and barely dodging the spray of glass. Lard Nar and the drone clung to each other out of terror behind him, fighting to keep any sort of purchase they could as Purple dove sharply once more, forcing them into a searing freefall as he chased down his seething partner, dipping dangerously close to Red's boosters. The pod quaked as Purple raced the length of the Ring Cutter, feeling the panels of his heat shield fly off piece by piece at the unbelievable swells of microwaves pouring off of the red behemoth. Purple held his breath. He was almost there. All he needed was to see Red. He needed to look into his eyes and show him that he was alive.

Lard Nar wobbled to his feet and shouted something with a furious point that Purple couldn't make out over the deafening noise, scanning the wreckage and yelping when he realized Red was turning his cannons on them. No! No, no, no! Did the dumbass not recognize their own escape pod?!

"Red, you idiot!" Purple yelled over the dash as if his lover could somehow here him, desperate to get to the main window of the Ring Cutter. The thunderous mechanical whine of powerful Irken weaponry following him and locking on to his tiny ship made Purple's adrenaline spike to dangerous levels. Almost…almost! There was a hiss of hot plasma as Red flipped the switch to warm his blasters, trailing Purple the entire way to his destination. Finally, he gasped when he caught sight of the bright starlight glinting off of the viewing port, diving down and forcing the tiny pod as close as he could and holding his breath, begging the universe that Red would see him.

Purple clamored over the dash of the escape pod and pressed himself hard across the searing glass, eyes darting wildly about to try and lock onto those two familiar crimson orbs that had captured his heart so long ago. Finally, he saw him. Red sat stiff, maniacal, and murderous, tears streaked across his dark cheeks as he yelled something viciously out at the pod in an agonizing fit of suffering.

"I'm here, Red! It's me! I'm not dead!" Purple threw a palm against the window and feverishly tried to get his lovers attention, frantic for him to move his weapons before they were disintegrated into nothing.

Then...they locked eyes. It was fleeting at first, Red glancing in his direction then looking away before immediately snapping back. Formidable, bruising, infinitely impassioned. Purple watched as Red's violent expression faded completely, replaced by a blank disbelief, as though he was seeing a mirage that would fade if he so much as blinked. Then he broke down. It was unnerving and Purple had never seen Red this strung out, watching as his partner frantically wiped at the sides of his face with uneven hands when the realization of what he had done sunk in. He had almost sacrificed everything, opting to die and take out as many targets as he could to avenge his partner's false demise. It was heartbreaking; Red's whole world, his stoic logic and powerful fortitude to do the right thing had all been destroyed when he thought Purple had died. Did Purple really mean that much to him?

"Irk, Red...what have they done to you?" He muttered under his breath.

Purple didn't break his solid gaze, reaching behind him and fumbling gracelessly for the communicator. Lard Nar bounded forward with a limp and shoved it into his hand before Purple held it up to the window and pointed, bringing the mouthpiece to his lips and hoping Red got the point.

What should he even say? What could he say?

"Hey asshole." He breathed inelegantly with a soft smile, watching as his signal finally got through to his beaten down partner as Red squeezed his eyes shut to the glorious sound of his voice.

Red scrambled gracelessly to flip on his own device, hesitating and slack jawed as he searched for something, _anything_ to say. All that came out was a timid, weak murmur. "Pur?" He savored his name, drawing it out as if it were gold. "Is it...it can't be..."

Purple's excitement boiled over. He couldn't help the giddy laugh that flew from his mouth as he grinned wildly, pressing himself closer to the glass with a frantic nod. "Yes! It's me! I'm alive, Red, I'm alive!"

"Y-You're alive?" Red repeated, nerves fried from stress and voice cracking as he tried to wrap his mind around what he saw. "But…how?! T-they said you were dead! The third party...a-and Nulol..."

"A communications officer shielded me from the blast! Holy shit I can't believe you made it!"

Something broke and Red slumped back where he sat, running a free hand up over his tear-stained face as he joined in with Purple's disturbed, adrenaline-fueled laughter. "You're not dead! Y-You're not dead!" He leaned back up and pressed a shaky palm to his glass, mirroring his partner's movements as another round of soft crying overcame him. "I-I..I love you! I love you so much! I can't believe you're here! I just…I thought…"

Purple choked on an overpowering flood of emotion, wanting nothing more than to reach out and grab Red and never let go; to push away his pain and drag that angry, haughty bastard back out. Together…they were meant to be together. Always. "I love you too! Calm down...it's gonna be ok now." He pressed his lips to the smooth glass as he spoke, dying to get closer and remembering the danger of the situation. "Turn off the cannons, and let me dock, you idiot."

Red couldn't look away, scared that he would somehow lose his partner if he did. He gave a small nod and powered down his blasters, allowing Purple to collect himself and hastily guide the ship into the docking port. Neither wasted any time. As soon as the connection was made, Purple shoved Lard Nar and the drone out of the way and flew thought the frame, springing across the walkway and struggling with the latch to the main compartment of the ship. Red threw it open from the other side and immediately collided with Purple's battered body, wrapping him in a desperate, frenzied embrace and holding him flush to his chest. Beautiful, overwhelming, interminably loving and raw. Purple let himself fall victim to Red's scent, burying his face in the crook of his neck and digging his claws into his shoulders, making sure that the Irken crying softly against him was tangible….was real. When he came down from his shock, he leaned all of his weight into his partner, melting into that strong, safe touch he wasn't sure he would ever feel again. He was here...they were both here together. Neither had to rule without the other, neither had to be alone. Purple ran his soft touch over Red's lower back, trying to exorcise the terrible demon that had possessed him with his soothing palms, breathing life back into Red's dull eyes and smiling when he felt him sigh against him.

"I love you...Irk, I love you." Red repeated on a hushed loop, pressing his skin against Purple's as he softly kissed him on the cheek, running his palms gently over the tattered, singed fabric of his jacket. His voice was feather-light and barely audible, but Purple didn't care. "I'm so happy you're alright, Pur...you're not allowed to leave me."

"Leave you? You know I can't do that. Who would be here to steal your chocolate when you're not looking?"

"Wait, that was you? I threw that service drone in the brig for that." Red relaxed and let a laugh slip through his tears.

"I know. I'm terrible." Purple giggled, running his fingers along the seam of Red's PAK and refusing to let go when Red did the same.

Red snuck another quick kiss to his cheek, glancing up to make sure no one had noticed. "Yeah...The worst."

Purple grinned against him, lost to the moment and uncaring to the consequences. He was still reeling that both of them had somehow managed to survive. Suddenly, before he could breathe out a loving response, there was a forceful yank from behind, ripping Red from Purple's arms and stunning him out of their glorious reunion. Two guards thrashed violently to cuff his partner as Purple watched in stunned and horrified disbelief.

"What are you doing?!" He flew forward and pushed one of the guards back, only for him to move forward and latch onto Red once more as he struggled in a bewildered haze.

The tiny pilot from before piped up, moving out from within the horrified crowd of Irkens cowering away from Red behind him. "Almighty Tallest Purple, I cannot express the sheer elation and joy that I feel from seeing you ali-"

"I asked you what the hell you're doing!" He growled irately as the guards finally managed to snap two heavy cuffs around his lover's wrists. "Why is Tallest Red being reprimanded?!"

The pilot cleared his throat and tried to take control of the situation. "He is a danger to your safety, sir, and the safety of everyone in the Armada."

Purple couldn't believe what he was hearing, throwing his hands in front of him in exasperation. "Red? A threat to my safety? Is this some kind of joke?" He wanted to laugh but faltered when he saw a sea of serious faces staring back at him.

The pilot watched Red with wary, heavy lidded eyes, as if he would lash out at Purple if given the chance. "By order of the Control Brains, Tallest Red is to report to Judgementia for an Existence Evaluation for breaking a standing Irken treaty with an allied planet and for unofficially declaring war on the Inquisitorian Federation with the death of General Hoc Nulol. There is also evidence, sir, that he has been harboring illegal affections for you, which several witnesses have confirmed, and now you have unfortunately seen for yourself upon arrival to the ship. I'm sorry you have to go through something so...wrong."

Oh, Irk…they knew. They knew about their relationship. Or, at least, they knew about _Red's_ feelings. Purple had to play this carefully; hopefully he could still diffuse this and gaslight his people into thinking they had imagined the whole thing.

"You're crazy! Best friends hug each other all the time, idiot! He thought I was dead, that's all!" Purple defended furiously, trying to keep his tone smooth and convincing.

The pilot shook his head. "Unfortunately, he confessed to," he grew uncomfortable, "loving you, sir. We have reason to believe these feelings are romantic in origin, and Irkens harboring same-sex affections must undergo PAK evaluations to determine if reencoding is an option."

"Geez, would you shut up already?" Red chimed in, finally coming off of the manic high he had spiraled into and reconnecting with his usual, conceited personality. "Nulol put us all in danger, not just Tallest Purple. I followed safety protocol and attacked an enemy vessel that was considered an immediate threat to the Armada."

"Actually," the pilot began carefully, "you did _not_ follow standard safety protocol. The Control Brains ordered you to be moved to a secure location at the notion of Tallest Purple's death and you openly defied those orders. You compromised an Irken ship, the integrity of the Massive, and over two hundred civilian and Armada lives in the immediate vicinity. Forgive me, my Tallest, but these, by definition, are war crimes that went against the highest form of law in our Empire. They are inexcusable and," he swallowed grimly, "must be evaluated through due process."

With that, Purple watched in horror as Red was smothered and muzzled against his will and forced past him, the two locking eyes a final time before he was stuffed into the elevator to the grimy bowels of the ship. Red tried to angrily yell something, but his voice only came out as a muffled garble of barely comprehensible syllables. Then, the doors closed and he was gone. No. This was just a nightmare...they had just been reunited and now they had to deal with mutiny? But it wasn't mutiny was it...it was the Control Brains. But, Red wasn't a criminal! Were Purple's people so stupid as to think Red was a danger to their safety? He blinked and glanced around, catching sight of the irreversible damage drifting around the ship outside and back to the shivering crowd. Geez...Red really did a number on everything, though. But...he was defending Purple and his memory, going to war with those he felt had wronged the Empire, and rightfully so! Even if it ultimately was the third party's doing, Nulol had almost aided in the death of an Almighty Tallest! Red would never do anything without just cause, and that seemed just enough to Purple.

There was the beep of a transmitter and the pilot grew wide eyed. "Sir," the pilot handed Purple the device. "It's the representative for the Control Brains. They are requesting your presence on Judgementia to oversee the trial as the single acting Tallest of the Empire."

Single…s-single acting…Tallest? Purple felt his breath hitch as he took the transmitter with weak, unsteady hands, eyes still glued to the elevator and the fervent, disgusting image of Red being manhandled by his own people after everything he had done for them. He was the sole heir to the Empire? What was going to happen to them now? What were the Control Brains going to say when they reviewed Red's PAK and projected it up on the screen above the Spike of Judgement for the entire Empire to see? What would they say when they saw…_everything_? Then, something clicked. They were wrong. The Control Brains were wrong; they were wrong about their social rulings and they were wrong to put Red on trial. Purple resigned to the fact that he wasn't going to get much sleep as he brought the transmitter to his antennae. He was going to pull Red off of trial and, if he couldn't do so legally, he was going to take matters into his own hands.

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Woo~ Next update will be Wednesday, October 9 at 10:00 pm CST! Have a good night fam and thanks for tuning in! (I was also stupid and uploaded this right at 10:00 pm without considering that chapters take up to 30 minutes to post. Sorry! I'll remember that for next time. Danke!)

AND WITH THAT WE OFFICIALLY ENTER ACT II OF MY KIND. STAY TUNED FOR THE TRIAL.


	16. Down With The System

Welcome back! As I said at the end of the last chapter, this kicks off the official start to Act II of this fic. I'm honestly excited because I have some fun stuff planned.

**To reviewer** **ANON;** I will be granting your wish…soon. There will be AT LEAST two more sex scenes if everything goes according to plan. The next one I have planned is most likely going to show up in the next chapter, and it's gonna be a hell of a doozy. Super excited to write this one!

**ALSO**; my storage ran out on my computer so I had to go to finish this at 8pm because I lost all my progress like an idiot. So sorry It's a tad late. Thanks homedogs.

**ALSO ALSO**: We had a glitch with the Fanfiction interface and this chapter was deleted! I took the opportunity to flesh out Purple's rebellion so if you're interested check it out babies!

**ALSO ALSO ALSOOO: I will be away for a conference on 10.13.2019, so our next update will be on Monday, 10.14.2019 at 10 pm CDT. See you then****!**

**Chapter rated T for brief heavy language and mild adult themes. I think were all mature enough here to handle that. Love you all! :)**

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It had been six days. Six days since Purple had been allowed any direct contact with Red under order of the Control Brains. They had been separated immediately, and Red was supposed to be put on trial officially at the beginning of the seventh day. He had been moved to Judgementia and the news had spread quickly of his murder of General Nulol and his crew, reporter after slimy reporter ganging up on him as he was officially transported to a temporary holding facility. Purple had watched every transmission from his suite on Irk, every strident microphone shoved in Red's face and flash of light from eager cameras itching for slander. He was smart and kept his big mouth shut, opting to only shoot daggers at the camera with that daunting crimson stare he was known for, and the crowd ate it up like a horrible tidal wave of disparaging parasites hungry for old-fashioned defamation.

Purple couldn't sleep when hundreds of guardsmen and advisors were constantly popping by his room to offer their halfhearted condolences over his partner's arrest. If only they knew, he would be in the cell with him. Everywhere Purple looked, he saw photos and recordings of Red trapped in captivity like a caged animal, bombarded constantly by the bloodsucking media and psychologists attempting to unravel his breakdown on live television talk shows. There was a mix of emotions within the puclic; shock, fear, disgust, entertainment. I told you so's were thrown about in passing conversations, as if everyone had secretly thought Red would break someday. It hurt. No, it didn't just hurt, it felt like someone had stripped Purple of his very soul and was cruelly obliterating it in front of him. Nothing that anyone could say, no kind sympathies or snickers of false pity in the hallway outside, could ever make right what the Empire had done to his other half. The public was obsessed with the battle but what had really captured their flighty attentions, was Red's love confession and the recording that had been disrespectfully stripped from his ship's database without Purple's knowledge or consent. The moment he found out that his insubordinate advisory team had taken Red's deepest thoughts and desires and mangled them for the whole star system to know, the whole system to laugh at, Purple had lost whatever tiny thread of faith he had been hanging on to for the Empire and had barked out the replacement of his entire cabinet and the brutal, ruthless execution of Rarl Kove and the others. Everyone just thought he was hysterical, overcome by the grief and anguish of his partner's absence and the nauseating torture of finding out that he had been supposedly harboring dangerous homosexual thoughts for him, and Purple halfway agreed with them. Yeah, he was most definitely hysterical. His world had been taken from him; his crimson breath of fresh air, his fuming sidekick, his handsome, self-centered prince. Every word of supposed comfort thrown in his direction by the backwards creatures who had smeared Red's name and left him behind in the dust made Purple ill. Red's helpless, despairing voice had played over and over on every screen across the galaxy until Purple had memorized his tragic, painful words by heart, able to recite them in his sleep and unable to push them from his broken mind.

_You know what?! I…I loved him! Yeah, you heard me! I loved Purple! I loved him more than anything! I wanted to be with him until the day I died and now I don't get that chance! Well…maybe I do. _

Then came the panic-stricken crying that shattered Purple and chipped away at him every time he heard that gut-wrenching, heartbroken waver. He wasn't sure what hurt worse; the panic in Red's voice, or the undying, profound love behind it all.

_I-I'm gonna die anyway! I'm gonna be deactivated for loving him! Fuck it! I'm not letting him die for nothing!_

It was sick on so many levels. In less than thirty minutes, Red had destroyed an entire fleet and crippled his reputation in exchange for what he thought was vengeance over Purple's unexpected, violent death, and Purple had undergone a flood of awful grief processing that he couldn't bite back. First there was denial and numbness as his PAK tried to tame and logically rationalize everything he was seeing with his eyes. It mistook his emotional pain for physical, pumping his bloodstream full of thick sedatives at night and forcing him down on the edge of his bed to wait out the lucid, medication induced high without Red to hold him close. Then he began to lock the door and frantically bargain with himself, running through every option he had supposedly refused to take in his backwards, mangled mind to keep Red from his damming fate. He could have thrown himself on the other side of the fire door and they could have overcome this whole ordeal together. He could have grabbed Red in the Ring Cutter and taken off in the escape pod for Irk knows where to do Irk knows what. He should have never confessed his love in the first place and kept Red blissfully in the dark, should have never opened the wound for both of them to be healed by each other's soft touch and warm kisses, should have never moaned his way to an orgasm under him as they took each other completely. Everything would soon be splayed over the Spike of Judgement for millions to see. The sheer disgust, the profound depression that washed over him at the thought of being so violated was almost unbearable. Purple had thought maybe, just maybe, he should turn himself in to get rid of the self-pity and the staggering isolation eating away at him from the inside out, but he knew he couldn't do that for Red's sake.

But, then came the anger.

The more he thought, the more he observed, the more his partner's incensed, beaten down face appeared on his transmission screen, the more Purple lashed out. He lashed out at any and everyone he could find, throwing terrified drones down hatches and shoving the catering staff ruthlessly out of the airlock when they insisted he needed to eat something, even if it was small. He hated them. Irk, he hated them all. He hated the advisory team for branding Red's name as a traitor and a freak. He hated his former crew on the Massive for not finding the third party and for letting him get away. He hated General Nulol for digging his disgusting feelers under Red's skin and dragging out the volatile timebomb that hovered just beneath the surface. He hated himself for not being able to stand before the Empire and the Control Brains and proudly admit his love and accept his fate. But, worst of all…he hated Red. He hated his smug face, hated his loud voice, hated the way he had so willingly destroyed everything they had worked for all to avenge him.

_Was it worth it, Red? Was I worth it?_

Purple could halfway remember staring up into his partner's eyes on the screen in his suite, determined yet infinitely forlorn, and losing himself completely to the searing rage that consumed him. He yelled, throwing violent curses as if Red could somehow hear him millions of miles away, and threw everything he could find up at the projection. Pillows, armor, boots, readers, pens, lamps. If Red had just kept his loud mouth shut, if he wasn't as unstable and unpredictable deep down, none of this would be happening to them. They would still be together and Inquisitoria wouldn't be preparing for a land counterstrike on Vort. Purple wouldn't have to shakily sign hasty declarations of war without Red by his side to advise him, wouldn't have to send troops to the Vortian capitol knowing they would die, wouldn't have to sleep cold and alone. There would be no threat of the Control Brains finding out about their illegal affair and no threat that they were both going to atone for their sins with their lives. They hadn't even hidden for a day. A day, and Red couldn't even handle that! Another reader thrown at the screen with a scream of tear-stained frustration and a loud crack as the glass split. He hadn't thought about Purple; he had only thought about his blind rage and his need to dominate. Did Red even care about him at all?!

_I hate you! I hope I never have to see you again!_

Purple had dug through every closet, every drawer and destroyed everything of Red's he could find. He shredded his book collection, ripped through his ceremonial jackets with furious claws, and burned his Elite awards and medals in the cleansing room, sitting near comatose on the edge of the cleansing pool and watching the appalling pyre as if it would boil away all of his pain. He stared into the flames for a long while as guards pounded frantically at his door, begging to come in, but he didn't listen.

After hours of thinking, Purple's anger had simmered down and he brought himself to sift through the ash, scooping up what was left of Red's service medals with shaky hands and running them over in his cold fingers. He wanted to stay angry, but he couldn't bring himself to fight anymore. He had pushed himself up and trudged back into their bedroom, looking over the absolutely disgusting mess and destruction he had left in his irate wake. He didn't bother cleaning anything up, flopping down hard on his bed and staring blankly up at the ceiling. He tried to cry it out, but no more tears would come, only a numb ache in the pit of his spooch as he finally came to accept their dire, soul-crushing situation. He didn't hate Red and he didn't hate loving him. He never could…he just hated that he couldn't love him without losing everything.

Then there was the present, Purple still stuck laying pathetically on his back as he tried to figure out how to pull Red off trial to no avail. There was no way to do it without destroying the Empire's foundations and losing his rank. He needed to talk, needed someone to listen without the threat of being given up.

There was a tiny beep as his transmitter across the room lit up from the floor, cutting through the dark Purple had cloistered himself into. He glanced over with a sigh and tried to squint at the incoming call. It was probably the Control Brains, wanting to ensure he followed the standard protocol necessary to oversee a trial; he needed to perform a ritual cleansing of his body and fast for twenty-four hours, which he had already done unwittingly, before donning his ceremonial robes and hood and venturing by flagship to Judgementia. The transmission ended before he could make out who it was and he rolled back over, staring at the far wall and curling into himself. Much to his immediate displeasure, the transmitter rang a second time, then a third. By the fourth, Purple had found his will to move, grumbling angrily and forcing his stiff muscles to slog heavily across the destroyed room and scoop up the little device.

"Geez, what?" He mumbled hotly under his breath before flipping the screen in his hands and nearly dropping it when he realized the source code. He fumbled to answer, opting to keep the video portion off before speaking in a hushed whisper. "_Teem_?"

"My Tallest!" Teem's voice was urgent but relieved as she sighed against the mouthpiece. "I'm so happy you picked up!"

Purple could hear the whizzing of Spittle Runners and the bustling noise of a city behind her, narrowing his eyes to the oddity of it all. Naphrus 8 was in the middle of the forest and he didn't remember it being that loud. "What do you want?" He wished he could find something more graceful to say, but at this point, it didn't matter anymore.

"I'm at the gate. I need you to tell this bitch of a guard to let me pass!" There was a furious voice calling in the distance followed by Teem shouting back and tearing open a muffled argument with the guard. "Screw your security clearance; he's my friend, alright?! Ha! Yeah, yeah, girl! Just walk away…oh, _I'm_ immature?! At least I know how to curl my antennae!"

Purple felt the corners of his mouth twitch at the childish barrage, threatening the first smile he'd had in his six grueling days alone. But, why was Teem here? Why had she come all this way to the capitol from her humble little forest?

He cleared his throat, hoping his emotions wouldn't betray him before speaking up again. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here for _you_. Just let me up…please?"

Purple thought a moment before nodding to himself. He didn't want to be alone right now, not when he was about to witness the deactivation and death of his partner…not now. "Pass the transmitter to the guard."

There was a shuffle and the guard immediately responded, the two having a curt chat over Teem's lack of security clearance before Purple practically demanded she be escorted through the tower to his suite. The guard didn't hesitate, realizing her disposable life was at stake, before promptly complying. The transmission had been ended and Teem had been hastily escorted through the winding halls of Tallest Tower to the top where Purple waited impatiently, trying his best to kick some of the awful destruction he had caused to the sidelines. As soon as she knocked on the door, he yanked it open, practically throwing himself on her as she gasped into the unexpected embrace, nearly dropping the heavy bags she had been carrying.

"U-um…Sir?" she began tentatively, glancing to the side and noticing the troop of guards eyeing her suspiciously. "Can we go inside, now?"

Purple nodded against her shoulder, leaning back and slamming the door in the disobedient guards' faces with a halfhearted smirk before returning to his depression. Served them right for taking so long. "I thought I told you not to call me sir."

"Yeah, I know, but I wanted to keep up the decorum for Ms. Stoic outside." Teem grunted as she set everything down, turning back to her friend and immediately throwing out her arms to welcome him into a warm hug. She didn't smile, deep pink eyes instead laced with worry. Why did everyone want to take pity on him?

Purple held up a hand and denied the advance, afraid he would cry again should she show him any sympathy. He was Tallest, and he couldn't show weakness, even if Teem was different than the others. She looked hurt, but held back with a tiny nod, instead stooping and rustling around in her bag for something.

"Sorry Kez couldn't come with me. Someone had to stay with the bar." Teem flashed him a soft, supportive smile. "I figured you probably hadn't eaten so I bought some icecream on the way." She held up a frozen pint and a spoon. "It's probably half melted but it's chocolate."

Purple averted his gaze to the floor, a familiar numbness creeping back in at his friend's attempts to cheer him up. "Thanks, but I have to fast for the trial. Tradition, you know?"

Teem rolled her eyes and pried open the frosted top of the carton, taking a step forward with a scowl of motherly disapproval. "That's stupid. Forget tradition and just eat before you waste away, will you?"

Purple's gaze snapped back up as a sudden pang of irritation hit him. The grumbling waver to her tone sounded like Red. "Hey! You're a civilian and you have no right to talk to me like we're equals!" He snapped, earing a frantic squeak from his friend before she shrunk back. "I get enough of that from everyone else, so I don't need it from you!"

"I-I'm sorry! Forgive me, my Tallest! I did not mean to offend you!" She apologized profusely, averting her gaze out of trepidation and throwing on her air of reverence at the sudden change in the mood.

Purple blinked when he realized what had come out of his mouth, his expression quickly softening as he forced his anger away. Dammit. That was uncalled for, wasn't it? He reached out and took Teem's gift, watching as she flinched out of fear. He swallowed thickly, dropping his tone back down to a manageable level.

"Um…Sorry." Did everyone around him fear the rank?

"No, no! I'm sorry, sir! I overstepped a line in coming here and thinking we were friends. _I_ apologize!" Teem stuttered, trying to hastily collect her things from the floor in an awkward flash of rustling bags and wide unnerved eyes. "I didn't realize how busy you would be with your preparations to-"

"Stop." Purple ordered, taking a bite of cool, creamy lusciousness and practically dissolving into the taste, quickly coming to terms with how much he had missed junk food. He hadn't eaten in days, the realization of how low his blood sugar really was finally hitting him full force as a faint wooziness blurred his vision at the edges. "Chocolate is my favorite, so thanks."

Teem still seemed unsure, watching him tentatively from below as he shoved a few more bites in his mouth and tried to force a smile. "Eh…you're welcome?"

Purple sighed and motioned her forward, watching as she set her things back down on the messy floor and followed, still clearly on the threshold of panic, to the edge of the bed where he slumped down. She took her time, mulling over if it was really alright before slowly lowering herself next to him and sitting stiff with her hands respectfully in her lap. They sat in awful silence for a few minutes while Purple finished off his makeshift meal and got some semblance of his strength back, every so often glancing in Teem's direction to make sure she was breathing.

"You can relax. It's not like I'm gonna kill you or anything." He tried to force a chuckle through his depression but failed miserably. "You're my friend." He paused, scraping at the bottom of his carton, refusing to make eye contact and prolong the awkward silence. "Sorry I got mad. You just…when you told me to eat…you sounded like…_him_."

Teem finally realized Purple's outburst, allowing herself a tiny, uneven inhale before nodding in soft understanding at the discomfort in her friend's voice. There was another deafening silence as she ran through how to respond, just as overcome with grief as he was, and not really sure how to make things right. There was no way anyone could make it right. Finally, she gave up and let her words slip as they were, unashamed of her worry and speaking with tactless sincerity.

"Have you seen him since the fight?" She breathed, staring at the floor and wiggling her toes nervously in her boots. "Have they let you call? They should at least give you updates."

Purple chucked the empty carton to the floor, only adding to the mess and trying to hold himself together at the heavy question. "Nothing. Everything I know, I've watched on the news."

Teem glanced up and caught sight of the monitor that Purple had shattered, sighing to herself and losing the power to her voice. "Oh. The news, huh?" There was a strange crack to her words and Purple glanced back over, noticing her hastily turn away and barely catching sight of a small, pained tear rolling down her cheek.

"Hey…are you crying?" He reached out to take her hand, but she rapidly pulled it away with a jerk, sitting on it as her shoulders stiffened.

Teem sniffed and immediately shook her head with a fake scowl, trying hide her noticeable anguish. "N-No! Why would I be crying?" She bit her lip and blinked before scrunching up her face, a distressed whimper bubbling up in the back of her throat.

Purple swallowed when she threw her hands over her face and broke down, succumbing to the torrent of emotion ripping through her. "Oh, Teem, please don't do this now. I can't handle anyone else crying when I'm barely holding it together."

Teem didn't look up from her hands, quickly becoming a blubbering mess of running mascara and smeared grey eyeshadow as she disregarded Purple's desperate request. "I-It's this place! This whole place! I-I thought we would be better now that you and Red were together. I thought we would have a chance for a better Irk!" She sobbed, choking a little on her words before forcing herself to continue. "Our society hates us for who we are! I-I've been listening to the news and I've heard what everyone is saying about Red! They're calling him a freak…a _defective_! Why aren't we allowed to be happy?!" Her eyes snapped up and Purple couldn't help but cringe a bit at the thick ring of deep red ringing her tired sockets. "I can't go outside without tourists throwing things at Kez and I! The other day someone from the capitol tried to hit the nice boys from up the block with their Voot just because they were holding hands! Now the whole planet, no, the whole star system is turning against Red because he _loves_ you?! This is sick, Purple, it's sick! I hate the Control Brains! I-I hate them!"

Purple didn't know what to say, leaning forward and wrapping Teem in a tight hug as she bawled out her fury, scrambling to return the embrace as she shook. She buried her chin in the crook of his neck as she trembled, losing all sense of time and rank as Purple tentatively reached up and rubbed at her shoulders, slowly at first then with more confidence. What was he supposed to do? No one, besides Red, had ever really done this against him before. The warmth was foreign but somewhat comforting in a bizarre way, hot tears and gooey mascara staining the sleeve of Red's old work t-shirt he'd thrown on to be closer to him. He thought long and hard as to what he should say, finally pinning something down, even if he didn't like it.

"I hate it too. I hate not being able to go out like everyone else on the planet and walk with Red or eat with him without having to worry about someone taking a picture and ruining everything. But…This is just the way it is." He felt Teem sniff thickly against him at his dismal submission, her grip on his shirt tightening. "No one else has a problem with the Control Brains but rebels and Irkens like us. Maybe…maybe we are defective."

"No, we're _awake_!" Teem pushed back hard without warning and looked him in the eye, wiping her face on the back of her sleeve and only further ruining the sticky catastrophe her makeup had become. "I'm _not_ defective! Neither are you and neither is Red! It's our political system that's broken! Somehow you and I broke through the fog and saw this dictatorship for what it really is!"

"Dictatorship?" Purple shrunk back at the heavy accusation and gave a small laugh at the absurdity of her claim. "No, I've worked with the Control Brains. They may not be right about this, but they're not wrong about how they rule. They keep the Empire strong."

Teem groaned, finding her fire again and gritting her teeth. "Open your eyes, Purple! Are you really going to defend the monsters who are threatening to murder your future husband?"

Purple winced at the word and the false life he knew he could never have, images of him and Red sharing domestic bliss together grazing his thoughts before he pushed them away completely. "I'm not defending them. And Red's not my husband."

"Well he _could_ be someday if the Control Brains weren't breathing down your neck! Don't you wanna get married and have an actual life with him before you die?" She threw her hands on her hips when Purple's frown deepened at the weight of her words. "Well, so do I! I want my wife to actually be my wife! Think about it; who is it that tells you how you can look? Who is it that tells you what you get to say and what you don't, what you get to eat, who you get to associate with, and who you get to love?" She cut him off when he went to say something, continuing her fuming rant. "You're Tallest, but all they do is use you and Red as their little puppets to fulfil their stupid 'galactic conquest' or whatever!"

"What are you talking about? I want that too!" Purple retorted hotly. "I helped plan Operation Impending Doom one and two and I'm one of the Irkens who brought our Empire to where it is now!"

"But do you want it? _Really_ want it?" Teem snarled, jumping up and beginning to pace. "Our race is strong and, yeah, I'm proud to have served under Spork and you when I was still in the Armada as a commander. But the longer I've been retired, the more I see that it's all for them. They promise you happiness, they promise you fame, and they say all your wildest dreams will come true if you only push a little harder. If you only stay inside the rigid box they've forced you in and if you only take a little more territory! That happiness never comes, Purple, believe me." Teem jabbed an accusatory finger in Purple's direction and he narrowed his eyes dangerously. "Through all the cannon sweeps and all the slavery, I've realized that's _exactly_ what's going to happen to _us_. When we're through conquering everything they want, they'll turn on us and enslave our race just as they've done to Vort, Callnowia, Boodie Nen and everyone else!"

"What are you saying?" Purple growled, daring her to continue and hopping up when she had the nerve to take him up on the challenge. "That I'm helping them take worlds all for them to take ours in the end? That's crazy!"

"Is it?" She spat, glaring up and locking against his electric stare when he towered over her. "They've done it to everyone else, so why be tied down to Irk? Think about it, Purple! They're able to encode our people through our PAKs to make all of us into mindless drones. We serve without question and they can change the very nature of our personalities all with a little connector on a cable! They've already enslaved us, so it'll be easy to take us down when they're finished using us to expand their Empire!"

Purple snorted and crossed his arms. "Yeah, right. Even if the brains were doing all that, we would die without our PAKs. It's not like we can do anything about it." He reminded, furrowing his brow when Teem continued to pace, only growing more frustrated as she seethed.

"We'll only die if they're removed. We can shut off the receptors that keep us tethered to the Control Brain's collective hive mind without removing everything else." She explained hastily, desperate to break through to her friend and giving another hefty sigh when he looked her over in disgust.

"And how exactly do you know that, hm?"

"Because I've done it!" She flinched when Purple's expression changed from one of repulsed disinterest to wide-eyed disapproval. "I visited a PAK technician off of Moo-Ping 10 and he told me that the connector keeping me in the collective had been damaged during combat. That's why I can love freely. That's why I can see the bigger picture and speak my mind without that little voice in the back of my head to keep me down. When he removed it completely…" her eyes lit up as she replayed the ecstasy of the beautiful moment. "…everything made sense. I could think, I could see, Purple. _Really_ see. I wasn't afraid anymore and I didn't feel the impulsive need to die for a cause I don't believe in, and I wasn't subjected to the Control Brain's ideas of hierarchy. I was just…me. Me without the extra code and me without the fear of never being me again."

"You do know PAK tampering is a tier one offence and punishable by law, right?" Purple pointed out, trying to scare her into submission. Her claims were highly dishonorable to the wills of the collective good. How dare she tamper with the divine equipment the Control Brains fitted them each with and twist it to her own rebellious agenda? There was so much wrong with everything she had confessed, and Purple felt torn as to whether he should call the authorities or hear her out.

Teem shrugged despondently, wiping away another fat tear as it landed on her pale cheek. "I don't care. I don't care if you take me in after all this is over but just hear me out! They're goingto kill Red because he stepped outside of their stupid laws. They're going to _kill_ him for breaking away from the collective because they're threatened by free thinkers like us! Sure, he destroyed a fleet. Boo hoo! They're more threatened by the fact that he can love you regardless of the programing instilled in us all. If we're awake enough to realize love isn't always a straight line and awake enough to break through the very programing they use to keep us in check, then we're awake enough to see what their true motives are!"

"If you came here just to yell at me like I'm some smeet then I want you to leave! I've already got enough to worry about with the third party floating around Irk knows where doing Irk knows what, Inquisitoria knocking at our door on Vort, trying to figure out how to budget for a new flagship, and I haven't even started to write Red's appeal yet!" Purple jabbed furiously at the door and Teem clenched her petite fists at the resolute domination in his voice. "If you're gonna be like that then get out!"

Teem gave an overexaggerated groan of frustration and reached up, tugging hard on her antennae with a loud squeak through her teeth. "You didn't even let me finish! I didn't come here just to yell at you!"

Purple threw his hands on his hips and loomed over her, trying to break her down with his impenetrable, oceanic stare. "Then why did you come?" He hissed aggressively, watching as Teem didn't so much as flinch.

She held her ground, stretching up on her toes and shoving a hard finger in his face. "I came because I care about you. I came because you're my friend, or at least I thought you were." She bit back, forcing her face up in Purple's to show she wasn't scared of his height. "And, I came for Red. I owe it to him to take care of you while he's gone, because it's obvious you can't take care of yourself."

Purple laughed sarcastically and spun on his heel with a scoff, trying to let Teem's caustic insult roll off but instead feeling it burrow under his skin. "Well jokes on you because he's not here, is he?" He pointed out the obvious, trying to stab at the little Irken and cut her argument wide open. "You coming here and talking about Control Brains this, Control Brains that, doesn't bring him home to me! All you're doing is wasting my time!"

"Stop it! If you would just let me fini-"

"No. I want you out of here. Some friend you are."

"I _am_ your friend! I didn't have to come! If you would just listen you could see that I'm also your greatest ally right now and that I can-"

"I said get the hell out of my tower!"

"No!" Teem stalked forward once more, the casing to her PAK popping open and the sharp tips of her PAK legs threatening to escape. "Don't make me pin you! I don't care how damn tall you are, you're going to listen to what I have to say because it could save both yours and Red's lives! I'm not letting you both die all because you wanna be a dumbass and talk over me!"

Purple threw his hands up and fought back the urge to wring her like he had done to Urb Yen, Teem's total disregard for authority setting a fire under him that he hadn't felt in a long while. He clenched his teeth and instead threw his hands irately in the air, stopping himself before he did something he would regret. How dare she march into his suite, bribe him with food, and go off about the Control Brains and their motives when she hadn't even met them? He wasn't in the head space to deal with all of this mind-numbing, asinine absurdity when Red was rotting somewhere on Judgementia. Suddenly, without any warning, what Lard Nar had said on the Massive floated back through Purple's mind, forcing his arms to his side as he grappled with the strange thought.

_If you would just open your eyes and look instead of take…_

Ugh! Now he had Teem _and_ Lard Nar bombarding him with their stupid words of peace and harmony? Was everyone around him absolutely insane?! The universe wasn't a harmonious place, and Purple knew that better than anyone at this point. It took everything you loved, beat you into social submission, and then laughed at your broken psyche before pummeling you some more. There was no chance for peace on Irk. At least he didn't think there was. But…what if they had a point? Purple had wondered when he would find his happiness and how much conquest would finally be enough for his mechanical leaders; every season the Empire was tasked with expanding just a little further, just a little faster. Every time they were promised that it would be the end to their universal suffering until a brain would set their sights on a rather desirable planet for something shallow and superficial, bribing Purple and Red into the same thought pattern with the promise of extra food or luxurious technology. Maybe it was beautiful, maybe it had a large reserve of natural gas, maybe it was simply going to be funny to overtake the people there. Invaders were always sent out, then the brutal cannon sweeps took place, then the conversion teams and Elite overtook the surface and imprisoned every surviving life form they could find. It was always the same tedious process, and the Control Brains had always praised him and Red for their swift, bloodthirsty work under the guise that it had been their idea the entire time. But it was their idea…right? This was all their Empire, so of course it was. Purple blinked when he noticed something odd, rooting through his PAK and quickly replaying hazy memories of each forced takeover he had been a part of. Huh…thinking back on it, he was beginning to realize that he hadn't actually made the decision to conquer anything on his own. It had always been the Control Brains that had mapped out their destructive path and marked planets for destruction, not him or Red. Sure, Purple liked blowing things up and watching worlds crumble to dust under his fingertips; it gave him a godly, otherworldly sense of power and pride for his race that he couldn't find anywhere else. But…it really hadn't been his choice. Why? Why hadn't it been his choice and why hadn't he ever noticed that it wasn't? He lowered himself back down onto the bed and stared at the far wall as he thought, fighting off the first stages of a headache threatening to rip through his skull. The more he tried to rationalize Teem's words, the more he found he couldn't wrap his mind around something that should have been simple to analyze. It was fuzzy, like he was disconnected from a strain of code somewhere deep in his PAK technology, feeling it slither just out of reach every time he brushed at it. There was something inside his head that kept him from moving forward and evaluating the situation completely, like a firewall in his mind that filtered out what was appropriate for him to see and what wasn't. He had questioned the Control Brains in the past and had even resented them before for what they had told Red about being too unstable, but there was always that something keeping him from truly breaking the surface tension of what their leaders really thought or did for the planet as a whole. He had always just believed they were working for the common good, standing beside him in support of his goals and leading him to a better tomorrow. But…if he couldn't see what they really wanted through the code they had given him, was there really a tomorrow at all? Oh, Irk. Teem…she was _right_. She was right about everything, wasn't she? Was she…? Purple knew the Control Brains were wrong about some things, but he still couldn't fathom them being wrong about everything else. They were omnipotent, all knowing, all seeing, all understanding rulers who strived for Irken excellence….right? Right?! Purple strained against the escalating hum in his PAK, finally realizing that the familiar sensation he had felt for cycles had been instilled in him at birth to keep him dumb and blind to something deeper and hidden beneath the surface. His leaders were using him just as he had used his crew. Every bite of candy he took, every word that flowed from his lips, every step he took on his late-night strolls was regulated by the Control Brains. An awful taste bloomed in his mouth as he tried to claw deeper, squeezing his eyes shut and playing mechanical tug-of-war with his PAK before finally getting a small bite of what he had been missing. The data poured through his ocular implants and forced him to shiver, illuminating a chilling scene that was incredibly distant but also intimately familiar in a way he couldn't understand. He saw a trial and a brief flash of the Spike of Judgement followed by a tiny, wiry Vortian with neatly curled horns standing before his massive leaders. His green eyes sparkled with determination as he limped forward, chatting fervently in a display of pure passion. Only, he wasn't being reprimanded or sentenced to death. The ghost of a soft, familiar laugh resounded over the stage as the Control Brains praised him for something Purple couldn't make out, before he watched in terror as the Vortian clicked his heels together and saluted his leaders with a sharp-toothed smile. What? Who was that? Why were they laughing together? Why would the Control Brains be associating with the enemy? Could that be…the _third party_?

Purple's eyes snapped open as he struggled to breathe, letting the image fall away as the terrifying line of code retreated, leaving him dazed and confused as he panted. Oh Irk. What was that? What had he been missing all these cycles? Why did that disturbing scene seem so familiar? Did Teem know about all of this too?

"What…?" He breathed, snapping back up to eye Teem with newfound suspicion. "I saw a Vortian with the Control Brains. They were talking," he struggled to remember as the vision began to fade, "and he…dammit I don't remember!"

"Breathe, Purple." Teem instructed when she noticed Purple attempting to understand but coming up short when his PAK beeped out a faint warning at his breach. "You won't be able to see everything yet…or really believe me until I unhook your connector and pull you away from their control." She swallowed and looked down at her feet, shifting nervously. "I thought about doing this ever since we met, and that's why I'm here. I want to get them out of your head so you can get Red back and help me figure out the mess I've been working to undermine for cycles. You won't be able to fight for him or Irk, truly and freely, until you're out from under their control."

"What do you mean fight for Irk? What's going on?" Purple looked back up, suspicion falling over him again. "How do I know this isn't all a lie?"

Teem bit her lip again and wrung her hands anxiously, knowing she was on thin ice. "Well…you don't. I didn't either until I was finally removed from the collective all those cycles ago. But listen to me. If you write that appeal to pull Red off trial, they'll say no. If you try to reason with them on Judgementia, they'll say no. He's a bigger threat to them than you could ever know and they want him gone, and they'll try to force you into seeing their lies too. You're already halfway there. You can see and feel what others can't, but they're still halfway in your mind, Purple. They'll be able to override any argument you throw at them as soon as you step up on that stage, and Red will be deactivated against your will before you'll even be able to comprehend what happened." She took a deep breath. " What you just saw is only the beginning of something very dangerous happening on our planet and it goes higher than you could ever know. Please, let me free you so you can finally see what they've done and what they're planning to carry out."

"Why? Why would you do that for me?"

"Because I'm your friend. Friends don't leave friends in the dark."

"I'm not stupid. There's something else. What is it?"

"That's it, honest."

"I'm ordering you to tell me."

Teem hesitated but Purple held his gaze firm, refusing to withdraw his demands as she squirmed under his heavy presence. If there was something else on her mind, he needed to know before taking this hazardous, life-altering leap into whatever it was she was suggesting. If the Control Brains were part of some bigger, shady plot he didn't know about, she needed to stop being a coward and speak up. Teem took a hesitant step forward and repositioned herself next to Purple on the edge of the bed, slumping forward and allowing her antennae to droop.

"We can't live like this…you know that don't you? We can't let them have what they want and kill for this sadistic plot of theirs. I was hoping things would never get this bad, but here we are." She mumbled, her voice a hollow ghost of a whisper. "We can't go to war with Inquisitoria and Vort…even if we win the devastation will be terrible. But the Control Brains won't stop until they have their way and finish what they started with the guy you're calling the third party."

Purple swallowed and found that his mouth had run dry. How long had Teem known about the third party and why did she stay quiet? Did she know when they met? "Why are you telling me all this now if you didn't want to before?"

There was another long silence as Teem prepared for the dire, Irk-shattering consequences of what she was about to propose. "I had to be sure you would be right for the job. We've been looking for someone strong for quite some time with enough of a political foothold in the Empire to take on the Control Brains. I already knew Red would be too devoted to their cause to let go so easily, but you," she looked back up and searched his eyes for anything she could use to convince him, "you're different. You think about things before doing them. You have the audacity to question and fight back against policies that you know deep down aren't right. You're already one of us, a rebellious firecracker ready to explode in the face of anyone who defies you. And…" she took a sharp inhale and squeezed her eyes shut, forcing herself to finally spill her motives. "I want you to lead our rebellion against the Control Brains."

Purple jumped up, shaken by the terrifying gravity of what his ridiculous friend was suggesting. A rebellion?! Teem was involved in plotting the assassination of the Control Brains and bringing about the destruction of the Empire's political foundations?! Red had mentioned that she was a bit of a non-conformist, but Purple was sure he didn't know she was also an Irken terrorist bent on undermining the system he had worked so hard to keep level. Did everyone around him have a terrible secret waiting to latch on to him and drag him down into their maddness? Man…he really was an awful judge of character.

After a few heavy moments of trying to cope with what Teem had just flooded him with, Purple spoke back up. "You're part of the Irken Rebellion Movement?! Teem, the IRM are terrorists just like the third party!"

"N-no, we're different! I promise!" Teem's remaining passion and anger faded to lucid desperation and fear. "We work to stop beings like him, and right now the Control Brains are the worst of them all! They need to be overthrown for the good of our people and our star system!"

Purple ran his hands up over his eyes and groaned. When would this confusing nightmare end? "Why can't you just tell me what's going on with the third party and be done with it? That would be so much easier than ruining my PAK and trying to convince me to play leader for a group of anarchists!"

"Woah, woah, woah. We're _not_ anarchists. We just want a free, independent Irk." Teem corrected, glancing to the side with a sigh of defeat. "Look, I can't tell you even if I wanted to. The blockers the Control Brains have in place over the collective physically keep you from hearing the truth. If you want to know, I have to disconnect you."

"Why are you coming to me with this now? I already have enough to worry about with Red on trial!" Purple countered moving to the window and throwing the blinds open, staring down at the Empire he had called his home. Was it really in danger by their own leaders?

"Red is part of this too! I can't say much but his trial is part of their plan. With him gone and the third party free they'll be able to-" Teem was cut off as her voice became a muffled garble of static against Purple's antennae.

He froze, staring out the window as the bizarre sound assaulted his senses and rang like a shockwave through his mind. He turned slowly and narrowed his eyes in curious perplexity, watching as Teem's mouth continued to move furiously, but her words only came out as white noise.

"Wait." He held up a hand to silence her furious chatter, relieved when she clamped her jaw shut and the awful barrage of confusing noise finally subsided. "I hear it. Or, I guess I can't hear it. Is this what you're talking about?"

Teem gasped and quickly nodded, trying to hold back her tears once more. "Yes finally you see what I mean! Please, Purple, I trust you. I've trusted you from the moment you sat on my couch and told me Kez and I were good for the Empire. At least this way…if you rebelled with us, we would have a chance at creating a new Irk for us all to live in without the threat of being taken over! We need someone tall on our side…we need _you_."

Purple blinked and cocked his head, moving back over to his friend. "What do you mean, we? How many of you are there?"

"There's over 150 of us enrolled in the IRM now." She mumbled under her breath, afraid of what Purple's reaction would be. "And…uh…remember my bar?"

"What about it?"

Teem rubbed at the back of her neck, finally breaking her prolonged eye contact with a nervous smile. "Well…I may have been running illegal PAK resets out of the back for a few cycles now to help…um…others out of the collective." She paused with a wince when Purple's eyes went wide, her voice becoming small. "And it doesn't stop there. It's the unofficial headquarters for the IRM."

Purple groaned and turned his back to his friend's tacky, uneasy smile. Oh, Irk. He and Red hadn't just slept together; they'd done it in a rebel hideout surrounded by Irkens who wanted to dismantle and uproot the very system they stood for? There was no way a written appeal would help Red's case now. The Control Brains would catch one whiff of that and execute them both on the spot for high treason just for setting foot in a place like that. And now, it wasn't just him and Red that were in danger. Teem, Kez, and everyone in Naphrus 8 would be put up for evaluation and deactivated for planning a coup against the Empire and for attempting to sway a Tallest to their side. Purple shuddered at the thought of tiny Kez crying her eyes raw in front of the Spike of Judgement, cowering as long cables snaked around her and threatened to take away everything that made her who she was. But still, as disturbing as it was, none of this was his problem! They had sealed their own fates when they decided to take on the Control Brains like the civilian scum that they all were. His gaze snapped back up at the disturbing weight of the thought. But…he was going to be civilian scum before too long…wasn't he? He wasn't going to be Tallest anymore after Red's trial and everything was forced into the limelight. Everything he had worked for…everything he had achieved…all of it would be gone. Where would he go? Would he even have a life to live anymore? Surely the Control Brains wouldn't let him walk away in one piece. Dammit. Once again, Teem may have a point. If he was going to be stripped of his rank and reencoded or, worse, labeled defective and have his data forcibly removed from the collective, there was no way Red would survive or the Control Brains would end this death sentence of a war with Inquisitoria. Ok…ok. Then there was the strange vision of the Vortian. If that really was the third party as Teem was claiming, there was something so much bigger happening under Irk's foundations that he wasn't privy too. Purple tightened his jaw as he tried to figure out what to do. On one hand, he could try to reason with the brains and save Red's life, but there was no guarantee that they would believe him. Plus, once they saw the true extent of their relationship, they were both doomed. On the other hand, he could risk having himself disconnected from the Irken collective for the first time in his long life and hope Teem was telling the truth. If she was and he joined the IRM, he would destroy his standing rank and privileges and open a war against not only the third party and the Control Brains, but his own planet. But…he and Red might have a chance to fix whatever sinister plot was going on.

A noble, high-status, law abiding death, or a raunchy, rebellious, unpredictable life?

Purple slowly turned with a blink, the weight of the Empire settling over his shoulders. It was the only way, wasn't it? The only way to save Red and figure out what was going to swallow his people and his Empire whole was to defy everything he ever knew. Purple took a deep breath, feeling his resolve overcome him once more despite the backwards logic of it all. He had to do this. He was going to pull Red off of trial and hunt down the third party that had been terrorizing them all into submission. He was going to put an end to this frightful, bloody war before it began and reclaim the Empire in his and Red's names, not the unanimous name of a few sentient machines created by their corrupt ancestors. And when he did, he was going to instill a new world order; a new Irk where he and Red could be together and Irkens like Teem and Kez wouldn't be terrorized or murdered for being unique. Irken uniqueness wasn't a crime; it was the source of their power. He took a deep, steady breath and nodded. There was no going back now.

"Alright. I'll do it."

Teem looked up in shock, a look of brazen surprise dismantling the heavy atmosphere that bounced between them and shattering her supposed defeat. "Alright?" She repeated with a stutter. "A-Are you sure? You'll…you'll really lead us?"

Purple hesitated again at the idea of going up against the most powerful Empire in the galaxy, but pushed his qualms to the side. This was for Red and the good of the Empire…this was for survival. "You heard me. I'll be your Tallest if you show me what it's like to be free and help me get Red back." He paused, thinking a moment. "But if you're lying to me, I will kill you."

Teem lit up, her eyes shining with a deep-set fervor and undying loyalty that burned through the dark and scorched at the very fiber of who Purple had become. Who had he become? Was he someone new, or was this…him? Was this the audacity Teem had talked about and that Red had fallen in love with? Teem grinned and jumped up with a powerful, endearing salute that dissolved any remaining doubt in Purple's mind over what he was about to do.

"Yes, my Tallest! I won't let you down!"

For the first time in days, Purple felt like he had a chance to make things right. The weight of despair and loneliness that he had been forced to slog through by himself was lifting, revealing a shaky but bright new light leading him on to a gorgeous future. He had a chance to finally reach the happiness that had eluded him for his entire life and share it with Red the way it was meant to be shared. They were meant to lead…this was going to be their legacy. As he looked the stick-like Irken standing stiff before him over again, he felt oddly proud, like he was finally making a decision for himself. Hopefully it would be the right one this time.

He cleared his throat and motioned for Teem to relax. "So, tell me how you're planning to start all of this."

"First we need to disconnect you from the collective and brief you on everything we know about the Control Brains and the third party. Then, we need to go after Red and take him by force. We have underground resources we can move in from Naphrus including plasma pistols, rifles, and food reserves. Even though we have over 150 Irkens at our disposal, only seven of them are actually trained for combat." Teem swallowed when Purple winced at the distressingly low number. "I know it doesn't sound like much, but they're good. I've seen them fight."

Purple nodded, running through how it would even be possible to storm the Spike of Judgement with so little troops. It was going to be a stretch, but if he was going to die anyway there was no point in hesitating. "I guess we'll have to make it work. Do we have a ship? If we take any of my personal flagships, the Empire will be able to override them from their remote command station here in the capitol if they find out what we're doing."

Teem grinned wildly, nearly bursting at the seams and allowing herself a tiny murmur of a chuckle. "You'll never believe this but guess what I found when Kez and I went dumpster diving on planet Dirt?" She leaned in and clicked her tongue. "A broken-down Viral Tank. It's sitting in the Naphrus 8 junkyard right now."

Purple nearly choked at the drop of the weighty, gorgeous name. "Did you say a _Viral Tank_?" He breathed, feeling his pulse race at the idea of running his hands over such a behemoth of a ship again; the booming plasma cannons, the triple reinforced hull and spine, the domineering heat shield would all be perfect as a replacement for the Massive. "Does it run?"

Teem giggled and strode to the mirror on the wall, frowning a bit when she noticed how awful her face looked from her emotional outburst. "Sort of. I haven't figured out how to properly readjust the power core into the main interface above the engineering deck, so I figured the rebellion could use a few smaller ships until-"

"It runs off of a cold-fusion reactor instead of a nuclear power core you'd find in something like a Spittle Runner." Purple began, trying to mask his excitement at the thought of digging his hands into such a heavily armored, sexy piece of Irken engineering. "I haven't worked on a ship like that in ages, but if you can find me a pair of goggles and a plasma torch, I can get it up and running in a few hours."

Teem glanced back at him in the mirror with a thin, devilish smirk as she cleaned up her blackened eyes. "You think you still have the skills?"

Purple puffed himself up with a laugh. "Duh. Just because I sit at the bridge all day doesn't mean I've lost my touch." He mused coyly, finally breaking himself out of his fugue. Everything was falling into place and he felt his pulse skip at the surprisingly delicious thought of breaking the law. Red was going to kill him.

Teem carefully wiped away her mucky mascara. "Then welcome to the Irken Resistance Movement, my Tallest."

Purple grinned back, feeling his confidence spike to an all-time high. He thought a moment, running over his current title in his mind. It commanded authoritative respect and signified the height he was infinitely proud of, but it was given to him by the Control Brains, the very beings the rebellion was claiming to work against. He could be anything he wanted once he was free of their icy grip, a tiny spark of anticipation growing to a roaring flame in his chest at the thought of finally being able to decide his own destiny. Huh. Who would he be then? Red had always rubbed his background as a Commander in Purple's face when they got on the subject, and it had always been a sore spot in the back of Purple's mind. Maybe now he had a chance to change that.

"If I'm taking over and running the fleet, that makes me your Commander." Yeah…that had a ring to it. "Got it?"

Teem giggled and spun around with another fervent salute to her superior, flashing her perfect teeth and giving a curt, overzealous nod. "Yes, Commander!"

Purple's nerves were practically buzzing with anticipation to break this whole thing open. What would it be like to be free? What _was_ freedom? How much had he missed being swamped by the collective's bad data? He smiled to himself, running over potential battle plans in his head, knowing Red would be proud to see him taking the initiative to get what he wanted. Suddenly, a devious thought struck him.

"One question, do you have any purple spray paint?"

Teem furrowed her brow in confusion. "Spray paint? Um…maybe? Why?"

"You'll see. Now free me and get me to Naphrus so we can get my idiot partner back!"

* * *

**Judgementia, the morning of Red's Existence Evaluation;**

It had been seven days since Red had heard Purple's voice. He'd been forced into the brig of his own Ring Cutter by a guard who's pay he had cut a few cycles back, the soldier taking the opportunity to brutally rough him up and make sure he knew how hard Red had made his life. Apparently, he had lost his apartment back on Irk. Oh well. Red had bit his tongue and taken it, reminding himself that he had caused enough damage as it was. Anything else he did would just add to the weight of whatever sentence awaited him.

He hadn't been allowed to speak with Purple before he was moved to a prison transport vessel and taken by force to Judgementia, repeatedly muzzled only to have it removed when he was forced to eat or drink. Reporters had bombarded him with hundreds of pointless questions about his romantic preferences and PAK psychologists had been asked to come and perform preliminary evaluations on him before his assignment to an official cell on Judgementia to ensure he would be stable enough to stand before the Control Brains without threatening their safety. Red wanted to do more than just threaten their safety; he wanted to rip the wiring from the very core of what they were for taking his life away from him and burn each of their horrific mechanical eyes out with a blowtorch. Every broken bone and plasma shot he'd taken in the Elite, all of the blood he had spilled against his will for the Empire, all the time he had lost following Spork like an obedient dog was all for nothing. He had stood before the Control Brains and been belittled, told he was too erratic and unhinged to rule the Empire alone and that the only reason he was there was purely because of his height. He had been forced to go to anger management sessions when they deemed him too inappropriate to deal with the public directly, stupid psychologists forcing him to come to terms with his violent past in battle and making him relive it over and over under the guise that it would help him heal. In reality, all he had learned was that his nightmares were caused by PTSD and how to breathe through the frustration. He was never the Control Brain's favorite Tallest, and he knew that, trying desperately to make up for the unintentional anger that boiled in him by being as submissive as possible. It had worked for a while, and he had been used as a prime example of obedience and Irken prowess in their propaganda, but now they had turned back on him again. All of it had been utterly humiliating, but this…this took the cake.

For the next week, Red had rotted in his cell, the pale sunrise and sunset outside his tiny window the only record of time he could find. It was comforting, knowing Purple was out there watching the same light come and go from the sky, almost like Red could feel him with every glimmer and hear his boisterous voice with every streak that cascaded across the cold floor. He didn't regret his confession or his attack on the Inquisitorian Armada. They were going to go to war anyway when Nulol told the Prime Minister that the Irken Empire had bent to the wills of the terrorists holding them captive; all he did was start his culling against their people early. Their mutual destruction on the arid plains of Vort would bring the deaths of millions. Still, Red regretted nothing. This was all inevitable with the third party, anyway. What he regretted was taking Purple down with him and the profound, gnawing despair of knowing he was going to be his lover's true downfall was unbearable. He was going to kill Purple when the Control Brains tapped into his PAK and replayed all the scenes of the past few weeks. They would see their trek through Naphrus and their awkward slow dance around the Voyager in his old office, their violent torture and Purple's frantic tear-filled confession, and their arrival at Teem's bar slathered in drugs and sickly-sweet booze. They would hear every amorous word Red had poured over in his mind as he tried to rationalize his growing feelings for his once best-friend turned lover, and see every soft, passionate kiss they exchanged in the dim lighting of his ex-girlfriend's guest room as they were pressed skin to skin. Worst of all, they would see Purple's bleary, half lidded eyes and hear every breathy, pleasure filled moan spilling off of his lips as Red took his precious virginity and chased him to release. That memory was supposed to be private and full of tender, boundless affection, locked away forever and only for them to share with one another, not for the entire Irken Empire and beyond to scrutinize and watch on a disgusting, sadistic loop.

Red had refused to eat and went on an unconscious hunger strike, trying to formulate some kind of escape plan when the guards would walk by and brandish their key cards tauntingly through the forcefield, willing Red to find his voice and fight back. Still, he kept quiet and bided his time for the perfect opportunity. He'd become desperate for answers, even going so far as to try and think of a way he could find Lard Nar after his escape and beg him to deactivate his PAK so no one else would ever see Purple the way he had. If he could somehow find a way to tamper with his memory systems, he could force himself to forget and protect his partner's integrity after his death. Death didn't scare him…as long as Purple was protected and kept safe after he was gone, he would be happy with losing his rank and life. That's what love was, right? Sacrifice? He would sacrifice everything to make sure the Control Brains kept their revolting, lifeless cords out of his partner's PAK. Everything.

Red thought he had stolen an opportunity when his PAK psychologist came back for their final session that morning, pleased with his progress but thoroughly worried about his persistent silence and sudden terrible eating habits despite the dangerous dip in his blood sugar. Red wasn't unstable. He wasn't insane. He wasn't any of the disgusting things the media was painting him as. He had almost lost the love of his life and if any of the Irkens glaring at him through his prison bars said they wouldn't do the same thing, they would be telling a horrendous lie. Each of them had husbands and wives to go home to at the end of their service cycles, and they would surely do the same thing Red had done upon almost losing his partner. As soon as the psychologist smiled at him through the plasma field and swiped his key card to the side, Red sprung forward and snatched it from his hand with a victory laugh before tearing off through the corridor on his PAK legs followed by the sounds of other desperate prisoners of all races begging and screaming to be freed. He didn't get far, a haughty grin slathered across his face but quickly shattered like brittle glass when a guard popped out from around the corner and hit him with a hot electric poker, effectively shorting his PAK and sedating him for the next few hours. So close…but still so far.

He couldn't remember much after that, but he had woken up to the hum of engines roaring in his antennae and the plush feeling of slick Plookesian silk draped around him. He had been moved to a prison transport pod, fully bathed in ritual bromine and clothed in his ceremonial dress robes and hood as he was quickly ushered on to meet his unforgiving mechanical leaders. He had watched the never-ending, vivid lights of the Irken justice system fly by below them, flanked by eight guards, four on each side as they neared the gigantic, daunting pinnacle of the planet; the ominous Spike of Judgement, a sharp black tower splitting the clouds and looming like a knife over everything it surveyed. Only the worst criminals were forced to endure the wrath of the brains here and, Red had to admit, he was more than a little terrified to be presented to them after the carnage he had wrought. After the thousands of times he had almost met his end, this was the most real, the most tangible death had ever felt to him. It was colder than he had expected; emptier and substantially more desolate than his brushes with the afterlife in the past. But, through it all, all Red could see was Purple and his haughty smile. He played back their happiest memories together the entire way to his doom, snickering and laughing to himself when Purple would tell him dumb little jokes on the side or fight him over the last muffin in the communal mess hall of their now deceased Massive. He watched his lover pour over readers and paperwork with that determined look, chewing his claws like a child despite the hundreds of times Red had told him not to. Red heard him give poignant, moving speeches to the masses and watched him bark out domineering orders to those beneath him, commanding an authority like no other. Then, the memories became deeper and more personal. Red could almost feel the way Purple had ran his gentle fingers lightly over his in their interrogation of Lard Nar, could almost see the beauty of the virtual world they had created together in the Holodeck, and could almost taste every ethereal, passionate kiss they had exchanged in the past two weeks. Purple was perfect…infinitely flawed and a bit of an unformed fixer-upper, but still perfect. If Red was a criminal for loving someone so incredible, then he was definitely guilty.

Purple would be required to show up and oversee the trial from his high commanding perch next to the Control Brains but would have little say as to how the verdict would pan out. He would be there mainly as a moral booster, a bittersweet reminder that Red had actually been capable of feeling love on a deeper level he had never known existed and a terrifying example of an affair gone dreadfully wrong. He had planned to pin the memories of them together on false consciousness and plead insanity for his partner's sake. He would take the burning humiliation for them both with grace, standing tall and accepting his inevitable fate. He would claim that he had made everything up in a fugue state fueled by his intense desire to be with his co-Tallest and that his memories were a form of psychosis. Hopefully, Purple would keep his big mouth shut and play along, and hopefully the Control Brains would be stupid enough to believe him and not think to root through Purple's PAK for more evidence. The best thing he could do for Red was carry on and live out his life without him and attempt to keep the Empire afloat. Purple would be Red's legacy, and he was ok with that.

It didn't take long to dock and as soon as the hatch was raised, Red's hood was forced down over his eyes, blinding him to everything but the hard ground as he was encircled by his jailors and swarmed by reporters of all species screaming and barking out an incomprehensible garble of frantic questions. Lights flashed, monitors buzzed inches from his face, robotic intelligence units attempted to break through the wall of stoic guards and snap even one photograph of Red's iconic scarlet stare for the repulsive entertainment of the public. His reputation and memory were doomed to fade, replaced by the idea that one of Irk's most awe-inspiring, bloodthirsty leaders had fallen for another male. That's all he was to them now; a male who loved another male and nothing else. No longer a competent leader, no longer a formidable commander, no longer an ace pilot, and no longer a shining example of incredible Irken conformity. He was shoved along against his will, staring resolutely at the ground and following the sharp clicking soles of the guards marching in front of him as the pale light faded and they disappeared into the dark shadows of the gargantuan building.

Red felt his pulse quicken when he was elbowed into an elevator with a devilish snicker, but still, he refused to look up, watching from under his thin covering as the guards around him tightened their grips on their gleaming staves, ready to strike should he lash out or try anything risky. The pod shot upwards at blinding speeds as Red tried to pump himself up and find the head space he needed to take on the cold machinery that would most likely be his downfall. This was his final battle, and he needed to make it worth it and go down with a fiery bang; he would never die on his knees. He needed to remember the protocol; walk out on stage and don't falter; stand tall and project forward your strength and innocence. The crowd would jeer and throw things in his direction and he would be expected to kneel on his right knee before the Control Brains, right hand crossed over left in a wordless display of respect. Then, after they saw that his greeting was reverential and adequate to their liking, his hood would be unclasped from his robes by a ceremonial advisor, folded, and placed upon a pedestal before he would be allowed to speak freely. Purple would do the same, ascending from the other side of the stage and following the same ritualistic etiquette before being led to his place high in the spike to oversee the ruling. It would be Red's last chance to be close to his lover, to smell his sweet scent and hear his warm, soft breathing. They would not be allowed to make eye contact, but they would both share a silent intimacy before they were separated for good and the trial would begin. He could almost hear Purple's snide voice ringing in his antennae, reminding him to behave.

_Be good, you idiot. I know you can do this so don't disappoint me._

The elevator ground to a shaky stop and Red was immediately shoved out by the handle of a hard spear jabbed into the small of his back, forcing him to stumble a bit as he was met by the deafening roar of thousands of Irkens screaming out nasty curses and crying over the thought of their once great leader faltering and falling victim to his disgusting affections and unwarranted violence that had plunged their Empire into war. Red ignored them as best as he could as his guards fell in close behind him, wary eyes burning holes in the back of his silken robe as he made his way to the stage, reminding himself to stand tall and show no frailty. He may be a criminal, but he was definitely not fragile. He held his breath and ascended the long, dark stairs to the main judgement platform, flipping the ends of his cloak out in a respectful flourish as he was positioned by the stocky personal advisor to the Control Brains and instructed to kneel. He swallowed dryly and willed himself to calm as he neared the final stages of judgement decorum, slowly lowering himself to the ground in a humiliating show of obedience and placing his hands lightly atop his knee in the way he had watched hundreds of other war criminals do in the past. He strained to listen above the roar of the crowd, gently closing his eyes when he felt the advisor's shaky hands at the buttons of his hood, gradually peeling back his layers to expose him to his end.

He couldn't smell him…that familiar honied smell of faint sugar. There was no soft, expectant breathing, only the huff and wheeze of the little advisor working to reveal him. Where…where was Purple? As soon as his hood was removed and Red was blinded by the hot spotlight beating down on him from above, he allowed himself a tiny glance to his right, a pang of alarm hitting him square in the spooch when he noticed his partner wasn't beside him. Purple wasn't there. Red shot his distressed look back up to the advisor who held up his hood like a trophy to the crowd, hearing them bellow eagerly as though they had just severed his head from his spine, before folding it dutifully and laying it out before three massive brains suspended from heavy cables running through the vaulted ceiling. They were disturbing and gangly, a mess of tangled wires and strobing lights of all colors, spidery slits of smoldering eyes dotting their unemotional, corrugated forms. Cords coiled and meandered over them in the background as they ascended further into view with a metallic clanking, the bright light glinting over their lithe silver frames as they hummed awake to dissect the flamboyant display of false deference Red was presenting to them from below.

There was a high-pitched mechanical whistle and the crowd hushed impatiently, antennae going stiff and breathing becoming deliberate and shallow as they awaited the delicious judgement and heated arguments that were bound to follow. Red kept his head down, staring firmly at the floor as the monsters scrutinized his robes and posture, lumbering this way and that as the ceiling creaked and groaned menacingly to support their weight. Then, after what felt like cycles, the head brain spoke.

"You have been seen. Please rise and state your name and rank for your Existence Evaluation."

Thank Irk he had made it through the first stage. Red did as he was told, taking a sharp inhale as he pushed himself up and locked eyes with the dark, ominous form hovering above him. He cleared his throat and attempted to sound as formal and dominating as he could after a week of not speaking, trying to hide his worries for Purple's unknown whereabouts. "Almighty Tallest Red. I see you in return."

There was a low hum as the brain processed his voice, running through hundreds of sample audio records and making Red to wait with bated breath for some sign of approval. Finally, there was a ding of consent and the deep, pink eyes of the brain shifted to a vivid olive, blinding Red and forcing him to squint.

"Almighty Tallest Red, you are now permitted to speak freely in our presence as we begin your Existence Evaluation. Be aware that everything you say shall be recorded for future playback should a verdict not be reached during our session."

"With all do respect," Red began abruptly at the signal, turning and searching the sea of faces for his partner but not catching any glimpse of that familiar amethyst gaze. "But where is Tallest Purple? Is he not required by tradition to participate in the trial?"

The crowd erupted into a collective jumble of snickers and audible eye rolls as if they knew something he didn't, only further putting the hook into Red's stomach and irritating him beyond belief. The brain gave a small, dark chuckle. "We were contacted this morning and it was decided that Almighty Tallest Purple will remain at his suite on Irk and oversee the trial from afar."

"Why?" Red let a growl slip, quickly catching himself and straightening back up. That wasn't like Purple. He would want to be here to fight for Red by his side, not recoil in their tower millions of miles away like a coward. "Why would he suddenly break thousands of cycles of Irken tradition?"

"It is simple. He felt unsafe in your presence."

Red shook his head and rolled his eyes derisively, seeing right though the disgusting lie. When the brain refused to elaborate, he narrowed his eyes up at the jumble of wires and crossed his arms over his chest in a display of harsh defiance. He knew the brains were incapable of lying during an official trial, or so he had been told, and that would mean that Purple had truly called them to say he wasn't going to attend. That bastard had the nerve to leave him here to deal with this by himself? Why? Was he really afraid of Red? No, there was no way that would ever be possible in a million cycles. Purple loved and cared deeply for him, so that would mean he was planning something in the dark shadows of the sidelines. Red hated it when Purple planned things on his own; everything he decided upon always ended in disaster no matter how hard he tried to get it right. He was emotionally intelligent and had the book smarts to scrap together small projects, but always needed Red's help to dig into the deeper logic of things, unable to truly dive beneath the surface and see the repercussions of his actions. Wherever he was, whatever he was planning, Red knew he was going to absolutely hate it.

"Tallest Red," the brain began, not giving Red the time to think through Purple's shady motives, "you have been called before us for war crimes against the Irken Empire and for risking the integrity of the Irken-Inquisitorian Treaty. You have broken the Empire's last standing alliance by pursuing and destroying an Inquisitorian Stinger-Class fleet headed by General Hoc Nulol under the impression that Almighty Tallest Purple had been killed in the line of duty by an unnamed Vortian terrorist. Is this correct?"

Red took a deep breath and felt his nerves spike at the horrifying glower eating away at him, surprised that they were digging so deeply into the issue so quickly. "Well, yes, but-"

"And you felt the need to attack this fleet _because_ you believed Tallest Purple to be dead?" The brain rudely cut him off, reiterating its last statement and waiting for Red's reply, leaning forward slightly in its suspension.

Red thought carefully, choosing his response tactfully in an attempt to win over the crowds sympathies. "Yes. General Nulol had endangered him and the Armada by succumbing to the wills of an unnamed Vortian terrorist aboard the Massive. I feared for the immediate safety of the Armada and took immediate action to neutralize the threat." It was only half a lie, and hopefully the crowd would take his explanation at face value.

"Is that so? Unfortunately for you, we have a reliable eyewitness account that says the Armada was under no threat of imminent danger." The brain mused, running through long strips of PAK information in its database and piecing together the events of the violent dogfight. "Instead, we have intelligence that you were distraught over Tallest Purple's supposed assassination because of illegal affections of a romantic and sexual nature you have been harboring. Is this true?"

Red felt his fingers twitch and fought not to buckle under the pressure of thousands of eyes crawling and prickling over his skin. Oh, Irk, did he really have to be honest? "Yes."

"Yes, you have been harboring illegal affections for your co-Tallest?" Red felt himself sinking further into the platform with every damming accusation. He nodded and the brain didn't accept his physical compliance, moving down slightly for a better look. "You are required to speak."

"Yes, I have been harboring illegal affections for my co-Tallest." Red finally found his voice and resigned to the fact that he wasn't going to be able to back out of this one. The crowd behind him gasped in shock and again erupted into a furious chatter. Red narrowed his eyes hotly and spun on his heel, calling out to the insufferable group he once called his subjects. "Say whatever you want but I will never regret what I did or what I feel! Yeah, I love Purple! I've loved hundreds of females in the past and that was never a problem, but I fall in love with one male and the Empire loses their minds?" He turned back to the brain and puffed out his chest. "I don't care what you do to me. I'm happy that I could love Purple as deeply as I did and I'm happy I watched Nulol go up in flames."

"Interesting." The brain whirred lowly, hushing the crowd and returning to its attempts to decipher Red's seemingly bizarre reasoning. "It is just as our witness claimed. Almighty Tallest Red is undoubtedly riddled with bad code."

Red merely laughed, making sure his voice echoed over the massive crowd so everyone would know he wasn't afraid to go down fighting. "Again, with the witness? I'd like to give that coward a piece of my mind!"

The brain stalled a moment before piping back up in surprising agreement, chirping out an answer Red hadn't been expecting. "Very well, we shall grant your request. We call our witness, Planetary Conversion Specialist Pem to the stand to testify against Almighty Tallest Red."

"Pem?!" Red went slack jawed at the jarring information, eyes dating to the side out of sheer Irk-shattering shock. Sure enough, they hadn't been lying. Pem was quickly ushered up onto the stage with an excited grin by two mammoth guards and positioned on a hover platform out of Red's reach. "He's your witness?! He wasn't even there!"

"Good morning!" Pem called out respectfully with a tiny wave, green eyes looking Red from head to toe as he stared in mystified disbelief. "It is an honor to be here in the presence of our esteemed Control Brains to bring our former leader, Tallest Red, to justice for his terrible crimes against our great Empire!"

"What the hell is going on?!" Red barked again, taking a hard step forward but stopping with a furious growl when Pem's guards brandished their spears menacingly. "There's no way he could be a credible witness! He disappeared after he left Lard Nar alone in the translation bay of the Massive and no one saw him again!" He glared back to the tiny Irken. "Until now."

"Specialist Pem has provided us with concrete evidence and recordings of the events that transpired leading up to the exchange between you and General Hoc Nulol." The brain explained slowly, unaware of Red's absolute bewilderment and irate counterargument. "Specialist, if you would please explain your findings for all to hear."

Pem grinned and eyed Red from the platform, throwing his hands behind his back as the corners of his mouth twitched, threatening to widen his already disturbing smile. "Of course! I was aboard Tallest Red's Ring Cutter the night he attacked and destroyed General Nulol's flagship."

"No, he wasn't!" Red threw his hands before him, utterly confused and growing exasperated as the absurdity of the trial sunk into him like a set of painfully sharp teeth. "Like I said, he disappeared! I may have been under the influence of my anger, yeah, but I would have remembered seeing him on the ship if he was there!"

Pem cleared his throat and merely flashed Red a soft smile before continuing. "Let me tell you, I haven't seen anything that scary since the night my conversion team was murdered on Vort. The ship was forced to give chase and overtake the Inquisitorian Armada, and General Nulol was murdered because Tallest Red feared for Tallest Purple's life. All I could do was watch from the sidelines as his affections overtook him, sirs, and he threatened to kill us all."

"Why are you doing this?!" Red retorted vehemently, glaring up at the tiny specialist peering smugly down at him from above, a feather-soft giggle escaping from his lips for only Red to hear. "You've always been a faithful servant to Tallest Purple and I, so what the hell changed?!"

"As we have previously declared, the Specialist has given us exclusive video footage of the events transpiring aboard the Massive and Tallest Red's Ring Cutter." The brain pointed out and the crowd made a long droning noise as if to suggest their eagerness to eat up the damming evidence against their leader. The brain didn't waste any time, illuminating a large screen to the left and throwing on Pem's supposed recordings of Red's mental collapse.

Sure enough, Pem had somehow managed to record everything in surprising detail. He had footage of Red spiraling out of control and landing the final blow to Nulol's ravaged flagship, recordings of Red speaking frenetic sweet nothings into his communicator when Purple had reappeared in his tiny escape pod, he had footage from above of Red pressing a gentle kiss to Purple's ash laden cheek upon their reunion and...he had footage from Red's fistfight with General Nulol on the Massive. Wait...Red took a step forward and watched the disturbing loop, admiring first how hard he had actually clocked Nulol upside the jaw but then coming across a realization much more sinister and much more frightening than he had originally anticipated. How? How did he have that footage, and how was any of this even possible? If he was claiming to have been cowering on the Ring Cutter like everyone else believed, how did Pem have time to rush to the engineering deck on the Massive, strip the audio and footage, and make it back before the ship was torn to pieces by the third party's chain of disastrous explosions? How would he even know what to look for? He was only a Planetary Conversion Specialist and there was no way he would have been trained to handle technology as advanced as core video systems. And, how did he have the electronic resources to tap into the Ring Cutter's internal security and record everything as if he knew it would pan out exactly as it had? Red was absolutely positive Pem hadn't been aboard that ship; he would have remembered those repulsive emerald eyes and that annoyingly mellifluous voice screaming out in terror with the others. If what he was suspecting was correct, that would mean Pem had somehow remoted into the ship's interface from an outside source, once again moving outside of his standard training. Just…how?

"Do not blame Tallest Red for his actions!" Pem piped back up to break Red from his thoughts, throwing his arms up as though he were a prophet, his soft voice ringing out like a cooling liquid over the crowds. "It is his PAK that is defective! The Irken it is attached to has been tainted by this faulty technology and his brain has been corrupted into a love that is not his own doing."

Red stared up at him, speechless as he scrutinized every rise and fall of Pem's hushed, sweet voice. Every gracefully falling octave and tut of his thin tongue rang over Red's antennae and pulled fresh memories out of his PAK. That voice. He knew that voice. Pem threw another melodious giggle down at him and Red was absolutely sure he had heard that sound before. He froze when the beginning of an icy realization overtook him, gluing him to the floor where he stood. The giggling…the tiny laughs of excitement…why were they so familiar?

"He has opened the wound for a new war with Inquisitoria and a chance for Irk to take the planet Vort completely for ourselves!" Pem cried out, receiving a wave of slowly growing agreement and furious nods from the crowd. "We should thank him for being defective. If he hadn't done what he did, we may not be able to usher in a new era of Irken dominance in our star system and move towards total galactic conquest. And so," He threw a fist in the air much to the delight of the Control Brains, "let us deactivate this broken Tallest and pave the way for a newer, cleaner Empire and go to war with Inquisitoria!"

The crowd went feral and absolutely wild. Red gasped and spun to face them, stunned by the ruthlessness and callous war cries resounding back over the stage and hitting him like a formidable tidal wave. No. Did they not realize the terrible gash they were cutting by agreeing with Pem's fanatical claims? This would only further the third party's agenda to pit Irk and Inquisitoria against one another! This is exactly what he wanted; to unhinge Irk enough to attack and bring both empires to their mutual destruction so Vort would be free for the taking. Suddenly, Red felt every cell in his body chill to an icy halt, forcing him straight into the diabolical bigger picture he had missed. His blood ran thick as honey as he slowly turned back, making vacant, empty eye contact with the diminutive menace cheering the murderous crowd on. Short...lanky...sickly green eyes...soft, ingratiating voice like silk...Red blinked when his gaze fell on Pem's chunky wrist gauntlet, breaking out in a cold sweat when he realized what model it was. How had he been so stupid and blind to the Irken...no...the _monster_ hiding right under his antennae?! Pem was running around with a standard issue invader's gauntlet complete with audio-visual hacking technologies. From a single device, he would have access to remote viewing of any ship of his choice outside of private sleeping quarters. That's how he did it. That's how he hacked Red's cameras and exposed him so ruthlessly to the camera. He swallowed, scrutinizing the little device further and tightening his jaw when he remembered a piece of crucial, deadly information he had again overlooked in his horror. Every invader's gauntlet wasn't just equip with hacking technologies but also with…holographic projection.

At the fervent, wild boom of his victory and the noise of prideful acceptance pouring out of the Control Brains' sickening interface, Pem flashed Red a bold, cheeky beam, clicking a few buttons on his gauntlet. Red's eyes widened in terror when the little Irken's form wavered at the mouth and fizzled out, revealing two rows of serrated, lengthy teeth. He knew Red knew and he wanted him to see it. Wanted him to glimpse the nauseating evil of the form lurking in plain sight.

Pem wasn't Irken...he never was. He was _Vortian_. It was all a hologram; a terrifying ploy designed to let him slink and slide about in plain sight and tamper with things under the watchful eye of the Armada, destroying everyone from the inside out without so much as a second glance. Everything had been his malevolent undoing from the start. He had wormed his way into Purple's private council after the catastrophe of the Florpus, begging him to let him take on the Massive. He had intercepted Lard Nar's transmissions over Conventia and prevented him from warning Urb Yen and Prisoner 432 of his motives. He had instructed the New Resisty to capture and torture him and Purple in Naphrus. He had hacked into all those Irken ships on Vort to saber rattle with Inquisitoria. He had overtaken the ship and forced them all to undergo the gut-wrenching torture of watching the Massive go down in heartbreaking flames. He had pushed Red to the edge to force him out of power and cripple the Empire, paving the way for an Inquisitorian conflict and a chance to free Vort from both their grasps. Worst of all, he had almost murdered Purple.

Pem was the third party.

It was all him...the phantom that slithered just out of everyone's fingertips and the appalling, disgusting wisp of charcoal black smoke that choked them all into submission. Red finally had a face to the name, a target to lock on to and shoot between the eyes; a face he had grown accustomed to and trusted with secure, classified information. Red felt dizzy and totally violated, as though someone had cracked open his mind and let loose a torrent of private information for all to hear and dissect with hypercritical eyes. Pem had his grimy, obscene Vortian hands in everything; his medical files, his technology, his eating habits, his personal life and schedule. There was no telling what he had seen or what he knew about him and Purple.

"You..." Red breathed, barely perceptible over the screeching crowd and his own impenetrable shock. "It's _you_."

Pem gave him a long slow blink, a look of almost kindly empathy coming over his gaunt face as his tone took a horrendously sinister nosedive, sending vicious chills up Red's spine. "Welcome back to the game..._player two_."

"Excellent work, Specialist." The brains reverberated over Red's speechless, mind-numbing dread. "For your contributions to the safety of the Empire, we are granting you the chance to take a formal Elite examination on the planet Devastis for immediate promotion and the opportunity to command your own personal fleet in the Armada." The brain flashed brightly, strobing Red's already drained mind into submission as he reeled from the horrible realization of the monster plaguing his people. "If you pass your flight examinations, we would be proud to have you as our front line of defense against the Inquisitorian Federation."

Pem beamed in the detached, misty light of the overbearing machines floating above him. "I would be honored, and I will not let you down!" He drew the words out across his slimy tongue with an overly charming, broad smile. "Thank you, sirs! Thank you for ushering in a new era!"

Red shook the glow from his head, bringing himself back down to from the horrible storm clouds he had been thrown into and reconnecting with the immense peril he was suddenly witnessing. Pem was winning, and he had somehow weaseled his nasty claws into the Control Brains and earned their collective favor. None of it felt real, like a horrid daydream that would go away when Red woke back up on his loveseat next to Purple. But that wouldn't happen…this _was_ real. Red felt a familiar fury run through him like a hot poker and, this time, he let it. He couldn't let a pathetic Vortian menace take his Empire and endanger his race all to reclaim the dying, useless ball of dirt that was Vort. With Pem as a commander in the Armada, Red had no doubt he would turn on Irk and use their own technology against them to devastate not only Inquisitoria but the surface of their home planet. No. That wasn't going to happen; not today, not tomorrow, not a hundred cycles down the line. Red was going to die anyway, so he might as well make his last moments count. As soon as he lunged for Pem's platform, he would have a few seconds to end his life before the guards shot him. This was it.

_Pur, wherever you are, I hope you can forgive me for everything I've put you through. I love you._

Before Red could brace himself and lash forward to tear the wiry limbs from the bestial, perverted demon that had ruined his life, there was a rowdy, soaring commotion behind the hefty steel doors leading out of the judgement hall. The crowd hushed in mutual uncertainty when the muffled drumming of a fast-paced beat coursed and vibrated its way through the metal, followed by the faint sound of a what sounded like...music? Red peeled his gaze away from Pem, who was just as utterly perplexed, a disgusted sneer warping his once friendly face as he scanned the door with bated breath. The music grew in intensity the closer the source became, throwing out vulgar lyrics and thunderous swells that were all too familiar. Red knew that sound; Purple listened to that stony alternative voice all the time on repeat when they were doing paperwork back in their private quarters. It was his favorite band; Chasing Cobalt.

"Contact!"

At the sound of the strident voice booming out her furious warning beyond the doorframe, the lock blew in a deafening explosion and a cloud of heavy noxious smoke, sending the door rocketing off its hinges and scattering the crowd in a terrified frenzy as a thick smokescreen settled over the growing mayhem. Pem yelled something in horror and stumbled inelegantly from his platform, tearing off in the opposite direction and darting between screaming Irkens like the sordid cockroach he was. Red turned and tried to give chase, growling out his throaty aggravations as he lost sight of those uninviting green eyes to the disorganized, chaotic judgement hall. No! He almost had him! Who the hell ruined it?!

"Get down on the ground! No one move!" The same breakneck voice rang out like a detonation, a slender silhouette leisurely making her way out of the darkness and stepping into the potent, blistering light. Red blinked in sudden confusion at the sight of the round face caked in ungodly amounts of cheap makeup he knew too well from his past; Teem.

Teem threw her head back with a shrill screech of a laugh, a single plasma shot ringing out from her heavy longrifle and erupting in the air with a roaring boom, causing the crowd to cry out in fear. "I said get on the ground! We're not playing around!"

The crowd immediately dropped to their knees and stomachs, pressing flat against the filthy floor and waiting for further instruction as Red stood dumbfounded on the stage surrounded by equally bewildered guards, the raunchy lyrics of Chasing Cobalt's many songs booming from somewhere in Teem's rebellious entourage and only adding to the bizarre, messed up turn of events.

"Floor is all yours, Commander!" Teem called over her shoulder with a slick side smile, slinging her rifle over her petite shoulders and snapping sharply for the music to stop.

It immediately ground to a halt, followed by a mind-bending silence that had everyone holding their breath in dripping anticipation for who was going to emerge from the smog. Red didn't dare move when he heard the slow, methodical click of expensive, patent leather boots drumming hard against the tile with every step. Suddenly, Red felt his pulse skip a beat and his breath catch when the smoke finally settled, curling and licking at the tall, slim form stalking towards them with an overconfident grin that made Red weak in the knees. Heavy mechanics goggles were pulled away from rich lavender eyes and gloved hands were shoved deep in the pockets of an oversized, violet jacket slathered in greasy oil and steaked with plasma burns. Red swallowed at the telltale clinking of a toolbelt, immediately recognizing the haughty, self-absorbed voice that called out to him from afar and completely rocked his world.

"Quite the turnout this morning, huh, Red?"

Purple.

Red watched, slack-jawed and awestruck as Purple flashed him a smile and laughed, looking down on the terrified crowd cowering at his luxurious soles. He reached down to his utility belt, brushing his thick jacket aside and fingering a sleek plasma pistol teasingly as his gaze returned to his lover's. Holy shit. What…what happened to him? Purple looked completely different, taller even, as he dominated the room and swept his authoritative stare up to the Control Brains with a dark frown. He didn't waste any time, striding forward like he owned the place, despotic and formidable, to the edge of the stage where he stopped and threw his hands on his hips, looking up with that deliciously mischievous twinkle in his amethyst eyes that Red loved to get lost in, adjusting his heavy goggles over his forehead before extending a gloved hand up to his partner.

"Man, I watched your trial from the ship and it's totally boring. When are you gonna learn to lighten up?" Purple chuckled, holding firm and patient as his partner stared back at him in amazement. "Whadya say we get outta here?"

Red couldn't move, overcome by the incredibly dubious, racy air of overpowering confidence pouring off Purple and invading his senses. Usually it was Purple who clung to Red for support, but now, the tables had turned. Red was the proverbial damsel in distress and Purple was his knight, smothered in ungodly hues of violet and watching him with determined, half-lidded eyes that drove Red mad. He forgot the danger, forgot the fear, losing himself to the intense need to bend down and take his partner's hand and run to wherever life was going to take them.

"Almighty Tallest Purple, what is the meaning of this?" The head brain boomed ferociously as more Irken rebels fell in behind their new leader, fingers clicking against the shiny titanium of pistols and rifles, itching to go off like a timebomb. "To disrupt an official Existence Evaluation and threaten the safety of everyone in attendance is a capital offense and punishable by death."

Purple yawned out his complacency, reaching forward and grabbing his dumbfounded lover by the hand before yanking him down from the stage, catching him before he could lose his balance and throwing a protective hand around his waist. "Geez, shut up already. We all know how high and mighty you think you are." He waved a flippant palm up at the irate machine, completely unperturbed by the threat. "Here's what's gonna happen. Either you stop this war with Inquisitoria and take Red off trial, or I'm gonna have to take him by force and declare war on you."

The brain's eyes darkened with rage. "You dare threaten the whole of the Irken Empire and our power with a coup?"

Red blinked, tugging away from Purple to shoot him a petrified stare. "What the hell are you doing?" He hissed between his teeth, terrified with how far his former co-Tallest was going to take this whole charade. "I don't see you for a week and you suddenly turn into a damn anarchist!?"

"I'm not an anarchist, idiot." Purple rolled his eyes and pulled his pistol from his belt, cocking it and squinting up at the myriad of bulging robotic eyes dotting his long-lost leaders. "Ok, I know this looks like a midlife crisis, but I can explain everything in the ship. We're outnumbered here; we came to get you and get out." Suddenly, Purple got an idea, lowering his gun and chuckling again warmly before calling out over the frozen crowd. "You know, I'm really happy I had the opportunity to rule you with an iron fist! Any of you wanting to break away from them," he jabbed a finger up at the enraged brains, "and destroy the third party can join the IRM and serve under Red and I!"

"T-The IRM?" Red breathed in disbelief, taking a step back as Purple ignored him and continued to address the throng of disgusted, perplexed faces staring up at him. "Pur…you're a _terrorist_?"

"Any of you willing to oppose me," Purple rocked forward on the balls of his feet with a fat grin, "better prepare for the worst fight of your life." He turned back to the Control Brains, a steely determination taking him over as he stalked forward. "You're sick. I can't believe I followed you for so long."

The brains remained silent and Purple scoffed, spitting in their direction.

"I'm not your puppet anymore! You wanna fight? I'll give you a fight for Irk you'll never forget!" He blinked when an idea crossed him, a tiny smile slipping back through his sudden fury. "And you know what? This whole trial and your deal with love is a waste of time."

Finally, the brain spoke back up at the mention of affection, retreating further into its tangled mess of cords to shield itself from the outside world and Purple's potential onslaught. "And why is that?"

"Because Red is _already_ my partner!"

Red bit back a frantic yelp when Purple grabbed him again, pulling him in close and forcing a hot, bruising kiss to his lips, holding tight when Red scrambled in alarm to pry him off. His mind went blank, every sharp instinct and need to overpower subdued by the feeling of Purple's lips moving slowly against his, wanting to fight back but instead letting it happen and losing himself to the weightlessness forming in his chest. They were ruined. Officially ruined to the Empire and ruined to the galaxy. The snapping of photo shutters resounded from the open door as wicked reporters flooded in, capturing and immortalizing their damming moment for the entire universe to see until the end of their days. Purple held firm, aware of the political and social carnage he had just wrought, but uncaring to anyone else but Red's soft breath against him. When he finally pulled back, Purple giggled as Red staggered in awe and tried to wrap his head around what had just transpired between them, reeling from the intense feeling of throwing himself so far out into the open. The crowd around them was frozen in a disgusting dread, alarm ripping through the room as Purple ran a loving touch over Red's shoulder before spinning back to face the Control Brains and holding himself proud, watching with narrowed eyes as they buzzed and hummed in a fervent attempt to process the foreign information they had just witnessed.

"Looks like you can accept that as my official resignation!"

"Almighty Tallest Purple and Almighty Tallest Red, you are hereby branded as defective and are stripped of your ranks as Almighty Tallest of the Irken Empire, effective immediately. Your corrupt data shall not be allowed into the collective and your PAKs are to be removed and deleted."

"Deleted?" Red blurted out against his will, rapidly readjusting to the danger of their situation. "But-"

"Red, just shut up for once and run!" Purple demanded.

With that he flew back down, snatching Red by the hand before firing haphazardly up at the dark behemoth and missing, immediately spinning on his heel and tearing through the now frantic crowd leaping up and throwing out PAK legs and sizzling lasers in defense.

"Do not let them leave the planetary surface." The brain ordered, sending out a dazzling wave of unknown electricity and worming its way into the combined PAKs of all those in attendance, commanding them to turn on their former leaders through violence. "They are a danger to the collective and to the Empire."

Red cried out and leapt over snarling bodies as he struggled to keep up with Purple's muscle-burning sprint, feeling his strong grip tighten around his fingers as he guided him through the furious pandemonium. Loud gunfire resounded behind them as Purple's team took the brunt of the offensive, following close behind and dodging hot streams of searing plasma and glinting, razor sharp PAK extensions.

"Get to the ship! Protect the Commanders!" Teem cried over the vicious commotion, yelping when her body collided with a burly Elite soldier struggling to pin her, knocking her to the ground as he yelled and grabbed furiously at her antennae.

Purple glanced behind him and fired on a whim, landing a harsh blow directly to the soldier's breastplate and knocking him back several feet with a grin. Teem let out a sonorous victory shout as she jumped up and rejoined the fast-paced fight, throwing ferocious punches and putting her military training to good use as the others fired at will and attempted to take out anything that moved. Finally, they broke through the long corridor and skated through the main foyer of the judgement hall, wading through ravenous reporters itching to get their malicious hands on Red for an interview or an opportune snapshot. Somehow, with great effort, Purple was able to beat them back and half sprint, half trip through the door and out into the crisp morning air. He scanned the sky in a panic as the others caught up, hotly pursued by their enemies before spotting what he was looking for and waving out a signal to the pilot hovering above them. A giant, severely dented Viral Tank lumbered down from the heavens, sending out a powerful shockwave that had Red bracing hard against the ground and clinging to his lover's arm. He squinted up at it in awed fascination, noticing the sloppy Irken emblem poorly spray painted in an obnoxious hue of purple across the front of the hood, bleeding down and staining the landing gear. Purple grinned at Red's wide-eyed gawk, holding him tight at the hip as the ship threw open its heavy cargo doors with a mechanical boom, dipping just low enough for the others to scramble inside. Teem quickly hopped up and helped Purple drag Red up into the compartment, smacking hard against the hull to signal takeoff and shouting profanities down at the angry crowd fuming below them. She yelped as a few Elite soldiers kneeled and opened fire, hot bolts of plasma forcing the crew to the far wall as they barely dodged the affront. The bay doors ground to a thunderous close as the ship shot off into the cosmos, the rebel faction finally slumping to the floor out of overexertion and mental exhaustion from the intense run. Everyone was sweating profusely and limp against the rusted floor, a jumble of limp limbs and pistol casings. Purple clung to Red, refusing to let go as he wheezed next to him on the floor, staring up at the dented ceiling and unsure if his plan had really worked. He reached up and placed a hand on Red's chest, feeling his pulse through his robes and smiling softly when he realized they were both still alive. Screw the universe; after everything it had thrown at them, they were still alive and kicking and they were going to keep it that way.

Finally, Teem coughed and tried to catch up with her heavy breath. "Wow. I can't believe that actually worked." She huffed, pushing herself up to a sit and glancing around, counting the others. "We're all here too."

The others slowly began to snicker from where they puffed, hands running up over tired eyes and wiping sticky sweat from scared brows before turning into an intense, adrenaline-fueled laughter. Purple couldn't help himself and joined in, rolling over and grazing his fingertips lightly over Red's cheek with a soft smile, leaning down to steal another kiss but feeling himself immediately cut off when Red forced a heavy hand up against his mouth. He looked lost in thought, reaching up and grabbing Purple by the wrist before moving him away when the gravity of what had happened overcame him. Purple swallowed and pushed himself up on his elbow with a nervous frown, watching as Red stood and quickly looked the ship over, scrutinizing every detail and streak of rust he could find before furrowing his brow and glaring back down at his partner on the floor. Uh oh. He knew that look.

"Hey, Teem?" Purple piped up, knowing there was a fervent argument looming on his horizon. "Can you and the others go to the bridge and check on Kez's progress getting the communications systems back online?"

Teem's pink gaze bounced between her new leader and Red, her shoulders going stiff when she picked up on the heavy tension settling between them. "Are you sure?" She mumbled, trying to give Purple an out.

He didn't take it, only nodding her on and watching as she returned it, hoping up and forcing the exhausted seven Irken crew into a nearby elevator before taking it up to the bridge. There was a moment of silence as the elevator ground to a metallic stop before Purple found the strength to work himself to his feet, reaching out to brush Red's shoulder and gasping in surprise when his partner smacked him away.

"What the hell was that for?" He yelped, narrowing his eyes back at Red's steely glower. "What? You're not even gonna thank me for coming to get you?"

Red crossed his arms over his chest, coming off of the intense high of Purple's improvised rescue mission and feeling himself return to his usual self. "Not until you explain what this is, Pur."

Purple shoved his hands back in his pockets and glanced around with a shrug. "It's a Viral Tank. Teem found it on planet Dirt and I fixed it up back in Naphrus."

"No, that's not what I meant." Red growled, tapping his foot impatiently on the ground. "Why the hell are you running around with the Irken Rebellion Movement?"

Purple shrunk back a bit, growing anxious at the sudden question he hadn't prepared for. "Um…Well…" He held his breath when Red stalked forward, reaching out and smearing the dark streaks he had painted over his cheeks and holding up his blackened fingers for Purple to see clearly.

"Is this eyeshadow?"

Purple blinked and looked down with a deep frown of annoyance. "No, it's war paint." He grumbled, kicking at the ground with the toe of his boot. "I put it on to look scary."

"It has glitter in it."

Purple huffed and began to pout. "So what? That's all Teem had and I needed something to intimidate the Control Brains!"

Red wiped his dirty fingers on the front of his robe with a sneer. "So you put glittery fucking eyeshadow on your face? That was your plan?"

Purple felt his embarrassment spike and clenched his teeth, refusing to make eye contact as his face flushed with color. "Why are you so hung up on the eyeshadow? It'll wash off and-"

"It's not the eyeshadow that I'm hung up on." Red cut him off, his tone dipping a dangerous octave as he vehemently scolded his partner. "It's that it's not _like_ you. None of this is like you, Purple! You storm into the Spike of Judgement playing shitty music and kiss me on live television without thinking? You give up being Tallest and shoot at the Control Brains knowing the Empire will come after us?" Purple went to interject but Red wouldn't let him, continuing his assault. "I'm gone for a week, only a _week_, Pur, and now you're pretending to be the leader of the biggest counter-culture rebellion on Irk? What happened to you?!"

"I thought you would be happy to see me!" Purple countered hotly, throwing up his defenses as Red shot daggers through his spooch. "I spent all night fixing this ship and putting this all together to _save_ you, you ungrateful asshole!"

Red took a deep breath and squeezed his eyes shut, running a hand up over his antennae as he attempted to keep his outburst under control. "Look, I am happy to see you and I'm happy we're not dead, but do you realize what you've done? You've destroyed every chance we had at taking back the Empire. I was ready to die so you could go on being Tallest and now you've just thrown it all away!"

Purple stomped hard on the ground like a child, clenching his fists and mounting an assault of his own. "Well I didn't have a choice, now did I?" He growled out, watching as Red flinched at the sudden weight of his threatening voice. "I took the only option I could find to save us both from the problems you got us into, so you have no right to get pissed off at me for saving your sorry ass! I didn't have to come back for you, but I did because I love you, so you had better appreciate everything I went through to make this happen!"

Red griped hotly to himself under his breath when Purple looked away, averting his furious attention to the wall before reaching up and trying to wipe the rest of the dark eyeshadow from his cheeks on the cuff of his sleeve.

"You really are lucky I love you." He mumbled, still refusing to meet Red's eyes as his tone lightened ever-so-slightly. "You're so annoying. I don't think anyone else would ever wanna take you."

Red said nothing, afraid he would only escalate their already heated argument should he press any further, reluctantly offering Purple the last word. Much to his surprise, Purple moved back forward and placed a hand on his shoulder, finally returning his gaze to Red's and searching his face for something Red couldn't quite pin.

"Yeah, I'm leading the IRM, but I want you to lead with me. I have no intention of giving up my rank forever and I want us to take back Irk in _our_ names, Red." Purple's tone was firm and resolute as he slung his other arm around Red's shoulder, running along the hem of his luxurious robes. "That is _our_ planet, not theirs. It doesn't belong to the Control Brains, it doesn't belong to Pem, it doesn't belong to anyone else but _us_."

Red blinked in surprise when Purple mentioned the third party's true name, feeling some of his fury pour away like steam. "Wait, how did you know that?" He prodded slowly.

"Know what?"

"That Pem was the third party?"

Purple swallowed again and sighed, finally returning to his usual level of immature exasperation before running his fingertips lightly up the back of Red's neck. "There's a lot you don't know…that I didn't know before last night, and that was one of them. The Control Brains have been hiding things from us. Let's just say that we're better off taking Irk and Vort by force rather than living a lie."

"Living a lie?" Red repeated, allowing his hands to finally settle at Purple's waist as he thought. "I don't think I'm following. This is just a lot to take in."

Purple gave him a small nod and licked his lips. "I know and there's going to be a lot more." He paused, mulling over how to rip off the bandaid. "I have to unhook the connection cable in your PAK that keeps you in the collective."

Red tightened his grip, immediately relaxing when Purple flinched at the feeling of his sharp claws digging into his skin through Red's old work shirt. "Pur, that's illegal." He hissed, feeling his apprehensions growing once more. "We could be killed for messing around with our technology like that!"

Purple shot him a look before rolling his eyes. "Seriously? You're still worried about that? We're not even part of the Empire anymore. They literally just kicked us out in front of everyone." He glanced down between them, discontented by the space separating their bodies before slowly closing the gap. "I don't really know what I'm doing but I know we can do whatever we want now, and what I want is for you to see what I've seen and remember what I've remembered. You deserve the truth."

Red didn't know what to think, going stiff when Purple rested his chin on his shoulder. "Please tell me you didn't…unhook yours." He breathed, already knowing the answer and letting his eyes fall shut when he felt his partner nod against him. "Why, Pur? That's part of who we are. That's what makes us Irken."

"No it's not. It's what keeps us blind to what it means to be Irken." Purple's voice was stoic and despondent as he snaked his arms under Red's to take him completely. "I thought the same thing until Teem fixed me and showed me all the lies we've been told. I'm sorry I brought Pem to the Massive, but he's so much more than what we think. Everything finally makes sense and I want you to see it. Please."

"Irk, Pur…I don't kno-"

"Don't you want to be free?"

A pang of alarm rang in the back of Red's mind at the word. Free? But…wasn't he free when he was Tallest? He had the right to say whatever he wanted to whoever he wanted and take countless planets in his fingers before squeezing them to dust. That felt free. He could eat whatever he wanted and had financial security beyond his wildest dreams. That felt free. But he had to keep his relationship under lock and key and work to impress the Control Brains all for them to label him as a traitor and an unstable freak…that didn't feel free.

"I need you on my side, Red. I can't head this rebellion on my own." Purple's desolate but soft voice broke Red from his wandering thoughts, an anchor holding him in place. "I need your military experience and your skills as a pilot…and I need _you_. All of you. You can't face the Control Brains and Pem with me until you're away from their control."

How much control did they have over them for Purple to be so worked up and angry? Was Red really missing out on something dire here, or had Teem's rebellious, counter-culture ways just seeped under Purple's skin in his absence. Wait…there may be a way to know. Without warning, Red tugged Purple into a tight embrace before flicking his antennae forward, ghosting his partner's and feeling him stiffen with a sharp gasp as a flood of powerful information was exchanged between them, overpowering Red's senses as he rooted through and sifted through layers of Purple's biological memories and PAK data. He saw the powerful explosion on the Massive, felt the searing heat of the fire, watched as he forced his way to the escape pod. No, what he was searching for was much deeper. He saw the unbearable depression and anxiety that overcame his partner back on Irk, felt the insufferable hunger he had forced himself to as he slept cold and alone, heard him scream and yell as he destroyed Red's things and burned his medals in the cleansing room. Ok, that one pissed Red off a little, but now wasn't the time for scolding; now was the time for digging and understanding. Finally, he locked onto the feeling of Teem's slender fingers in Purple's PAK, reaching deep into his casing and brushing back wires and cables until she found the connection port that tethered him to the collective the Control Brains had built for their society. When she pulled it, Red felt a rush of impenetrable weightlessness, gorgeous enlightenment, unforeseen cogent understanding, and overwhelming fury ripping through his mind before he practically slammed into a wall. Huh…? He couldn't see anything else…almost as if the information Purple had learned in his absence was restricted by his own PAK. Red strained and battled to break through the firewall but couldn't, withdrawing his antennae in defeat from his lover's and feeling him collapse against his chest as he came down from the brutal, intimate sensation of information exchange.

"You're not lying to me?" Red confirmed in disbelief as Purple panted against him. "There…there really is something else I can't see."

"T-That's what I've been trying to tell you, idiot." Purple huffed, leaning further against his partner and finding himself completely exhausted by the bombardment of Red's psyche invading his. "I can show you…I can fix you."

Red bit his lip at the idea of seeing everything he'd never known existed. "Will it save the Empire?"

"Yes."

"Will I finally know why everything is the way it is?"

"Yes." Purple reached up, finding a bit of strength with a smile and placed a palm on Red's cheek, leaning up and pressing a light kiss to his lips before immediately pulling back. "Don't worry. Everything will make sense soon…I'm going to set you free."

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Once again sorry for delay! My computer ran out of storage so I had to do this at the library! I ended up posting this at 11:47 pm CDT, so I guess we didn't miss our deadline by too much As always, reviews are appreciated and I love you all! _**See you for next update on 10.14.2019 at 10 pm CDT!**_ _**Remember, this will be on Monday this time because I will be away!**_ Thanks loves and I look forward to posting our...ehem...revealing chapter next. Revealing in more ways than one I should say.

(Chapter updated and content reworked by author Charlotte on 10.11.2019)


	17. Wanna See?

Good evening my lovelies! I'm very excited for this chapter, because I really like writing for sexual content. Maybe I'm just weird, but oh well, I have no shame. Thank you for all of the reviews you've posted! Once again, I never expected this fic to get the attention it has been getting, so thank you again, and it really does mean more to me than you all could ever know! Seriously, I'm a sap up here every time, but you guys really do make my day. Thank you.

Also, welcome **Ari1027Nicole** to the follow family! Thank you, love, I appreciate you so much!

**This chapter is rated a strong M for **_**explicit sexual content**_**, brief strong language, and general adult themes. I repeat, this chapter contains explicit sexual content, so if that doesn't float your boat, I just wanted to warn you! Thanks!**

* * *

Fingers interlocked as the ship hummed and groaned under the friction outside. It was so quiet down here with just the two of them, Purple had noticed, breathing in the stale, iron-laden air of the ship he had rebirthed from a lifeless hunk of titanium. He ran his free hand along the chipping rust of the old, deep magenta paint as he led Red deeper into the belly of their new flagship, feeling bits of metal come off under his hands.

"This place is a dump." Red sneered, breaking the peace and narrowing his eyes in disgust at the tiny holes mottling the walls. "I can't believe we actually have to live here."

Purple shrugged. "Would you rather live in a tiny Spittle Runner?" He countered threateningly, stepping carefully over a lose wire running from the ceiling to the floor as it crackled. "It wouldn't be hard to throw all your stuff in one and make you sleep outside by yourself."

"No, but I also don't wanna get tetanus from walking around my own ship." Red grumbled when he noticed Purple frown and jut out his bottom lip in a pout. He decided to change the subject, knowing he was still on thin ice with his partner since their short, but heated, argument. "Where are we going?"

Purple still didn't look amused, refusing to lighten up. "We're going to our new quarters. I want us to be alone when I disconnect you and you freak out."

"You think I'm gonna freak out? Thanks for the faith." Red muttered as Purple tugged him around a battered corner and into a long stretch of dark corridor. It was as dusty as it was stuffy, a thin layer of old grime coating the walkway and sticking to the soles of Red's boots with every step they took. Disgusting. A faint light flickered every so often until buzzing out completely, leaving the two back in the hushed blackness together.

"I _know_ you're gonna freak out." Purple jabbed, tightening his grip around Red's hand when the lights clicked back on and deadened again, forcing himself on despite the creepy discomfort he felt.

Red noticed with a tiny smirk, returning Purple's strong grip as they rounded yet another corner into the winding belly of the ship. "Come on, Pur. You ran through the dark back on the Massive. You can't tell me you're still scared." He chuckled when Purple muttered something under his breath, Red continuing his playful sting. "Or did you just wanna hold my hand?"

The unreliable light hummed to life again, casting sharp shadows over Purple's face and illuminating his heated glower before the darkness veiled him once again. "I'm not afraid of the dark!" He snapped, consciously relaxing his hold to try and prove his lies. He paused before his voice softened. "And…maybe I did."

Red held back another laugh when they finally stopped at wherever Purple had been guiding them. "I wasn't gone that long, you know. I had everything under control."

Purple strained to pry the hatch open, forcing his weight against it and stumbling when it finally popped open on screeching hinges, stopping halfway and refusing to budge further. "You? You never have anything under control." He toyed, grabbing at Red's wrist and tugging him through the frame before locking the heavy door behind them. "You would be dead if I hadn't rescued you _again_."

"I said I had everything under control. I almost had Pem's throat in my hands." Red pulled away and glanced lightly around the room, forgetting his frustrations about losing their enemy and shivering in the strange draft flooding from the overhead vent. "Is this…our room?"

"Unfortunately." Purple muttered with a sigh, rubbing at his arms through his jacket when the chill hit him. "I couldn't bring everything with me, so we'll just have to make the best of what we have."

They didn't have much. Purple and Teem had managed to stuff one of their twin sized mattresses in the cargo hold of Teem's Spittle Runner along with a few blankets and Red's expensive silk comforter. It looked bizarre in a run-down place like this, overly luxurious and out of character against the peeling paint and flittering dust. They'd managed a single lamp and a small hand mirror, a small stack of Purple's favorite films, what was left of Red's now diminutive book collection after Purple's intense meltdown, and two small bags of clothing each. Two sleek plasma rifles rested against the far wall and it was obvious by how poorly the scopes had been adjusted that Purple had no idea how to actually use them. There was a precarious stack of boxes and readers thrown haphazardly in the corner, threatening to topple at a moment's notice and swaying as the ship shuddered. A single burned out chandelier swayed leisurely in the dark and a wide window was cut into the far wall, barely concealed by curtains tattered with age but allowing the faint light of the galaxy swirling around them to slice through the gloom. It was pathetic really, two once godlike rulers forced to live in squalor like the rest of the lower-class back on Irk, and Red could really feel the heavy, malicious hand of the universe pile driving him into rock bottom. There would be no way they could access their financial accounts without being traced and it would go to the Empire's next elected Tallest regardless. They were penniless. Just fantastic.

"Come with me." Purple ordered, shucking his mechanic's belt and pistol to the floor and guiding his forlorn lover to their pathetic excuse of a bed before flopping down, motioning for Red to do the same. "I need to get those monsters out of your head."

Red gave him a small nod and lowered, wincing at the sudden twinge of pain in his bad shoulder at the shift of his weight. Purple noticed and reached out, pressing a firm palm into his aching muscle and digging his fingers into his scar through his silken robes. Red purred into the expert touch and felt some of his apprehensions melt, leaning back before he was abruptly stopped by the sensation of Purple's free hand popping the main compartment of his PAK and setting it gently to the side. Red always hated this part, the feeling of unwanted, intimate exposure and fresh air hitting his internal wiring. It made him feel naked in the worst of ways, like everything he was would escape into the cruel world around him and dissolve into the atmosphere. Purple kept up his soothing grip on his shoulder, offsetting the worry and tension that was settling between them, long fingers slowly dipping inside his partner's PAK and awaiting his approval before moving further, barely grazing his ocular components and causing Red's vision to darken.

"I don't know if I'm ready for this." Red breathed uneasily, leaning back completely when Purple moved his hand from his shoulder blade to wind around his waist line and hold him flush against his chest. "Be honest with me, Pur. Is it bad?"

Purple dug a little deeper, careful to gingerly bypass the receptors keeping Red's nervous system intact before shushing him tenderly, surprised by the softness of his own voice. "Yeah…it's pretty bad." He stroked gently past his partner's coiled mechanical legs, careful not to cut himself on the sharp tips. "You're not gonna like it."

Red held his breath when Purple pressed against the connection port keeping him hooked into the collective, followed by his resolute grip on the cable the Control Brains were supposedly using to keep him blissfully blind. Maybe he should stay that way…maybe he didn't want to know. Purple gave a soft tug and Red gasped, shaking a bit as the beginning of phantom images and documents invaded his peripheries before shrinking back again out of reach. No. This was right. He needed to do this for the good of Irk, Purple, and himself.

"Just get it out of me already." Red let his weary eyes fall shut when Purple absentmindedly traced his ribs through his cloak, attempting to push away the weighty, unnerving feeling of helpless surrender bearing down on him with light, sympathetic touches. Trust. He had to trust his partner no matter how nervous he was and no matter how insane this whole ordeal had been. He trusted Purple.

Suddenly and without warning, Purple jerked the cord free and Red's eyes snapped back open as a sudden weightlessness ripped through him. Purple withdrew his hand and quickly slung his other arm around his lover's waist as the same grief-stricken confusion flooded over him in waves, squeezing tightly and holding him firmly in place. It was unbearably intense, a searing heat flooding Red's spinal cord and shooting upwards, bringing on a terrible, mind-numbing headache as his PAK fought to hang onto the torrent of code and long lost memories cascading over his senses. First there was noise…so much muddled, incomprehensible noise. It bounced through the room like an unseen wraith, tainting everything it touched and dulling the color in Red's implants as he fought to grapple with the booming voices chattering incessantly in his mind. He heard crowds jeering and snarling, Control Brains humming awake, soft laughter chuckling out victories and unknown verbal jabs he couldn't pick out of the chaos. Then came the ferocious deluge of images and vivid colors flickering in rapid succession; horns, bright green eyes, curling wires, Purple's seething anger. He watched as his past self lifted a hand and thrust an accusatory finger up at the murky visage of one of the Control Brains, followed by the muffled sound of his own voice bickering back and forth with the massive machine over something he couldn't make out. Red blinked a few times, trying to force everything to settle as the brain fog he never knew he had dissipated and his migraine faded, revealing something wholeheartedly disturbing and devastatingly infuriating. He could see memories clear as crystal. He could hear voices as if they were next to him. He could filter through documents in his PAK as if they were in his own hands. This was what he was waiting for; what he and Purple had been needing to find for weeks now. Finally, everything made sense. Dark, sinister, skin-crawling sense.

"You know what to look for." Purple spoke simply when he felt Red's body sigh under his grip. "Read it to me. I wanna know you see everything again."

Again? The word felt oddly right as Red let all of his weight fall back on his partner, Purple catching him and slumping against the wall as his warm hands came to rest on Red's chest from behind. He rooted through new, but old, PAK data before coming across what Purple had asked him to find, a single report from a criminal trial held twenty cycles in the past. Huh. This was recent, so why hadn't Red remembered it before? Was this something the Control Brains had kept hidden from him? From them both?

"Read it, Red." Purple repeated, keeping his demands short and to the point as if a sudden irritation had taken him.

Red nodded, licking his lips before digging the document out of his code, pulling it up behind his ocular implants and skimming the words in the air. After a few lines, he finally spoke, reading the transcript of the trial aloud for his partner to hear and relive their haunting past together.

"The trial of Vortian Prisoner 28; birth name Pem Goor. Male. 191 cycles old. Originally assigned to Vort Research station 11 under the reign of Almighty Tallest Miyuki to begin experimental work on Irken military technology as an engineer. Pem Goor was apprehended in his private office following the Irken invasion of Vort and was moved to Vortian Prison Camp 4 outside of the capitol city of Hatalca after wounding an Irken foot soldier. The subject in question escaped from incarceration and is called to trial for war crimes against the Irken Empire by order of Almighty Tallest Red and Almighty Tallest Purple." Red paused when he felt Purple swallow against him, furrowing his brow. "_We_ called his trial?"

"Just keep going." Purple half demanded and Red could almost hear the scowl in his voice. "Get it over with so we can move on and finally fix this mess."

"Geez, alright." Red sneered, turning his attention back to the document fluttering just under his lenses. "Pem Goor was apprehended in the Meekrobian star system by an Irken patrol and taken into custody for possession of illegal improvised explosives devices he claims were to be used against the Irken Armada. Hologram technology was removed from his person and taken as evidence by a forensic examiner who has determined the subject in question was using this technology to infiltrate the Armada disguised as an Irken specialist in an attempt to hack and manipulate Irken technology on Vort and plot the assassination of two Almighty Tallest. Sentence; death by lethal injection." Red stopped himself short, reaching up and rubbing at his temples in frustration. "Ok, am I stupid or does none of this make any sense? If he was sentenced to death, why is he still alive?"

"You're just stupid." Purple teased, only half joking before his voice again took on more serious notes. "Seriously, just think about it for a minute. There's nothing blocking you from remembering what happened, so just remember it. It's not like it's hard."

Red fought back the urge to tear open another argument, electing to stay quiet and enjoy Purple's consoling touch massaging calming circles into his skin as he struggled to think. How the hell was he supposed to remember going to Pem's trial? How was he supposed to remember hopping up from his seat when Pem began to laugh in the face of the Control Brains, offering them an out from their relationship with the Irken race? How was he supposed to remember being pinned as the eventual scapegoat for Pem's diabolical plot to overtake Vort? Wait…he remembered. He remembered everything! It was almost as if it hadn't ever been gone, a horrifying realization bubbling up in his PAK and taking him back twenty cycles to the very beginning of his own downfall and the downfall of the Irken race.

* * *

**Twenty cycles in the recent past, the Spike of Judgement;**

Red watched excitedly from above as the Control Brains dipped down over the cowering Vortian beneath them, running their hot, domineering eyes across his shaking form. Served him right for trying to take on the Armada disguised as one of their own.

"You think they're gonna drown this one?" Purple piped up from his spot next to him with a sadistic giggle. "That might be fun to watch."

Red returned his grin with one of his own, wringing his hands expectantly as the little Vortian threw his palms over his beady green eyes to shield against the blinding spotlight. "Maybe we should make a bet; I'll bet they throw this one in the colosseum to fight the Hogulus. If I win, you have to fork over your donuts for a week. If you win, same thing. Deal?"

Purple thought a moment, reaching up and readjusting his ceremonial hood with a smirk. "Prepare to be crushed by defeat, Red." He fought back another chuckle. "Deal." He went to say something more when Red laughed under his breath, but was cut off by the bone-shaking, colossal voice of the head brain reaching its verdict.

"Prisoner 28, the evidence against your case is far too great to process your request for an appeal. You have murdered a planetary conversion team outside of the Vortian capitol of Hatalca, stolen an Irken Voot Runner and standard issue Invader's gauntlet, fled to the Meekrobian star system to evade detection, fabricated official Irken-Vortian identification papers, created and had the intention of using improvised explosive devices against Irken forces on Vort, and have impersonated an Irken specialist with the use of hologram technology with the intention of infiltrating the Armada to hack Irken equipment and plan the assassination of the Almighty Tallest. In the light of this overwhelming evidence, how do you plead?"

Pem moved his hands away from his eyes, sharp teeth chattering viciously as he shivered before running a shaky palm up over his horns in distress. "N-Not guilty! Please…All I wanted was to take my planet back! All I want is to free my people!" He begged, practically throwing himself at the Control Brains as he spiraled. "I-I'll do anything! I'll give you the names of the rebel faction hiding off of Moo-Ping 10! Yeah! U-Uh, there's Lard Nar, Shloonktapooxis, Spleenk, Urb Yen, Ixane-"

"Please restrain your voice to receive your verdict." The brain retaliated, a droning whine resounding from deep within its steely casing as it ran through all the information on Pem's short life it had. "For your crimes against the Irken Empire, you have been found guilty and are sentenced to deletion by lethal injection."

Purple blinked with a dissatisfied frown when Pem practically dropped to his knees out of fear, erupting in a fit of tears below them and turning into a disgusting, blubbering mess. "Huh. Weird. Haven't heard that one in a while." He turned to his friend who was just as stunned by the decision as he was. "Looks like we both lose this time."

Red shrugged halfheartedly and slumped back in his seat, growling when his hood slipped down over his eyes. "Dammit. I thought I had that one! At least we don't have to hear about this guy anymore, I guess."

"W-Wait!" Pem's gaze suddenly snapped up as he cried out in panic before the brains could retreat back up into the ceiling. He reached up with frantic hands and leaped forward, his guards following close behind with sharp spears to strike should he try anything risky. "What if I can help you break away from Irk?!"

What? Break away from Irk? Why would they do that? Red shot Purple a glance, quickly scanning the gradual confusion that was clouding his deep eyes before turning back to their mechanical leaders. Surprisingly, they had stopped their ascent and were moving back down for a better look, stooping dangerously low over their captive in silent thought. When they kept quiet, the atmosphere changed to something darker and foreboding, the feeling of static pouring off of the Control Brains' interfaces forcing Red's silken robes to cling uncomfortably to his body as he leaned forward. The little Vortian merely stared back, willing his breathing to calm and his tears to dry as he thought long and hard about his bizarre proposal. Then, the unexpected happened as he burst into soft but menacing laughter, doubling over when he noticed Red and Purple glaring back at him from above, shooting a finger up in their direction as he attempted to fight back a heavy snort of amusement.

"Oh wow! Ok! This is gonna be so much easier than I thought. Since crying and begging didn't work, I guess I'll have to move on to plan B!" He hooted, wiping at his cheeks with petite hands before cleaning them off on his prison uniform with a sniff and turning back to the Control Brains with a bizarre determination that had seemingly manifested out of nowhere. "I have a proposal for you that could work in both of our favors. My life in exchange for the planet Vort, the fall of your allies and the death of the two idiots who keep holding you back…well the smart one at least."

Red had heard enough. This was an asinine waste of his time and the Control Brains were still willing to stick around and hear this freak out? He punched at his chair's control pad in irritation, slowly lowering himself down to the stage before pushing himself up, Purple not far behind and just as perplexed.

"Woah, woah, woah. Excuse me?" Red stalked forward across the stage with a snarl, his long robes dragging across the immaculate floors behind him. "You've received your ruling and you're going to abide by the rules of the Irken Empire and take it. There will be no deal making."

"Yeah!" Purple piped up from behind him, throwing his hands on his hips. "What makes you think you have the power to talk back to a Control Brain? Are you stupid or something?"

Pem paused, staring up at them for a few seconds before flashing them a wide toothy grin and laughing through the tiny gaps in his teeth, the noise coming out as a strangled hiss. "Oh, please! I don't have to listen to you. You may be tall, but you're not _my_ leaders. I lead myself and I'm merely offering your esteemed dictators a chance to capitalize on my project."

Red rolled his eyes and threw off his hood, the cool air of the hall hitting his cheeks and smoothing up over his antennae. He opened his mouth to retaliate but was cut off by the sound of the head brain whirling back to consciousness, glare beating down on the three as if they were pawns in a game of intergalactic chess and it was deciding on its next move.

"Explain your project thoroughly for the council to hear." The brain demanded, much to the stunned displeasure of Purple, who stomped defiantly on the ground and threw his arms over his chest.

Pem cleared his hoarse throat and puffed himself up with a haughty blink, throwing his hands behind his back as he thought. "I have been thinking for a few cycles now that you are the most powerful beings in our known universe," he began, buttering up the massive tangle of wires, "and I believe you have the ability to transcend the idiotic masses you use to achieve your galactic conquest. They're in the way and no amount of PAK technology will keep them down forever. The more they evolve and the smarter they get, the less likely you are to enslave them completely after you've taken over the entire universe." He leaned forward on his toes provocatively. "Who knows? They may even dismantle you one day if they wise up. So, I'm offering you a chance to speed up the process. Your allies, the disgusting Inquisitorians, were allowed half of my home planet of Vort. I have a few ideas on how I can force them out to relinquish full control of the planet over to you. I would be named ambassador of Vort and we would be allowed to retain our culture and our language."

"You can't be serious!" Red snapped vehemently, clenching his fists and turning his irate attention back on the Control Brains. "This is insane! You can't possibly be considering this?"

The Brains remained silent and Pem continued eagerly, bringing his hands together as his eyes lit up with an excited fervor.

"Why bring Inquisitoria into this, you ask? Well, you'll be able to use this one," he jabbed up at Red who gritted his teeth in fury, "as a scapegoat. He's unstable. I've hacked into your data bases and read through his files hundreds of times, and let me tell you, I am fascinated by what I found. The PTSD, the drugs, the depression…so much psychological torture just waiting to break. I think I can force him to somehow start a war with Inquisitoria over Vort to force them out and bring on a mutual destruction of both of their races, leaving behind only a tiny fraction of the population for you to officially worm your way into and take." He giggled and let his eyes flutter shut. "No one would suspect a thing; I would look like the villain and Red would take the downfall, leaving you behind in the shadows as the ring masters! Red would go on trial for war crimes and Purple would be too much of an idiot to figure out the bigger picture, so you would be free to take Vort completely and enslave the Empire that remains a hitch in your plans."

"I'm not an idiot!" Purple chimed in hotly. "You just told us everything and if you really think the Control Brains will fall for something that crazy you're-"

"And you want to be given the status of Ambassador over the planet Vort?" One of the smaller brains mused slowly, thick, snakelike coils running over the back of its tiny body as it pondered Pem's peculiar plot. "You would be working with our council directly, I assume?"

Pem's disturbing smile widened as the crowd behind them collectively gasped in shock, erupting into wave after wave of terrified questions and frantic pacing over the thought of the Control Brains actually bending to the wills of a terrorist. Red stood, dumbfounded, his gaze vaulting between Pem and his mechanical leaders as they haggled for the lives of millions, feeling completely helpless to the bewildering, dangerous, heartless turn of events this trial was leading them all down. What did they mean? The Control Brains were going to…_enslave_ them all after universal conquest was complete? No, that couldn't be right! They were constantly promised a happy ending and riches and power beyond their wildest fantasies, not to mention a chance to prove Irken dominance and superiority once and for all. There would be no way the Control Brains, a robotic collective of data built by the founders of the first Irken Independence Movement, would ever have malicious intent to harm the very beings who brought them to life. Could they? _Would_ they? When no more words came, Red finally knew the answer, spinning to reach out and grab Purple for their escape before being hit by a powerful wave of information, nearly knocking him off his feet. The head brain hummed ominously, sending out a swell of high-pitched noise to subdue the crowd into submission, thousands of hands scrambling to clamp down against overstimulated antennae and fight against the piercing noise. Red did the same when he noticed Purple scrunch up his face in twisted agony and claw at his hood, feeling his ability to rationalize suddenly begin to fade and be replaced by something terrifying…a need to comply. The world was becoming hazy and his pulse skipped a beat when he felt the code in his PAK lurch and contort, something slithering in and forcing everyone in attendance to panic. Some tried to leave but couldn't make it a few steps before freezing, PAKs suddenly alight and glowing with a replacement code being shot out mercilessly by their mechanical leaders before dropping to their knees and falling flat. They were forcing everyone to forget.

"Pem Goor, you shall be removed from trial and assigned to the Irken Armada as a Planetary Conversion Specialist to gain the trust of Almighty Tallest Purple through acts of benevolence. One this trust has been gained, you will work within your scope of practice as an engineer to undermine Irken technology on the Vortian surface and slowly pit the Empire against Inquisitoria, all the while attempting to demoralize Almighty Tallest Red to allow us to collectively use him as a scapegoat. If you can achieve this war, you will be named acting Ambassador of Vort and we will allow your culture to continue to practice religion, social customs, and speak the Vortian language under our rule. Do you understand the terms of our agreement?"

Red's eyes widened as he fought to stay conscious. His memories were eaten and slowly stripped by painful override, replaced by a blackness that was more profound than anything he had ever experienced. He heard the muffled thud of his co-Tallest hitting the ground behind him and spun with a lethargic blink, unable to concentrate with the overwhelming amount of horrific data coursing through his mind and system against his will and better judgement. It was true. He and Purple were being used as puppets to scarf up as many planets as they could all under the guise that they were going to have everything they had ever dreamed. It was a lie. They were working towards their collective downfall, the end of a formidable era and reign to be replaced with hard labor and obedience that was not their own. All Red could remember before going down was Pem's steely gaze, determined and fanatical, staring up at the Control Brains with a wild salute of victory as they dinged out their pride at his compliance.

"Yes! Let us overcome this Irken menace together and set ourselves free!"

Then…nothing. Darkness. The shuffling of feet. The soft caress of a mattress beneath his back. Terrible dreams of a trial once held but never remembered. Light of day cascading in through expensive steel blinds. And…a voice.

"Red?"

Red felt someone lightly brush a finger over his shoulder, scrunching up his face with a muted grumble before rolling over on his side and drawing his thick comforter up past his cheek. He nearly came out of his skin when someone threw themselves down on the bed next to him, laughing when his eyes shot open and he scrambled to throw a punch at his assailant but missed, slamming into the wall and recoiling when he felt his knuckles pop.

"Ow! What the hell?!" He cried, blinking in the pale light and allowing his vision to slowly readjust and his pulse to calm. Purple snickered beside him, a hand clamped over his mouth at the gawky look plastered over his friend's face. "Dammit, Pur! I told you not to do things like that! One of these days I'm going to hit you on accident and it's gonna be your fault!"

"But you didn't hit me, did you?" Purple teased, moving onto his side and grinning up at his friend. "It's already past noon. Are you going to sleep the whole day away or…?"

Red frowned, glancing lightly around their quarters before returning his gaze to the window. Huh. It was noon. He reached up with a yawn and smoothed his antennae back, quickly realizing he didn't remember a thing from the day before. Where…where had they been all night?

"Must have been some party last night!" Purple chuckled, stretching out and making himself at home. "I guess we both got wicked drunk because I don't remember a thing."

Red tried to think back to the events of the previous evening but only saw bits and pieces of what he was hunting for. He saw a massive throng of Irkens, heard their chattering voices, and saw the bright light of a spotlight beating down on them all. Weird. Must have been a pretty awesome party if they had decided to get hammered enough to black out together. He shrugged it off, becoming aware of the dull ache in the back of his head. He moved to sling his feet over the edge of the bed before deciding against it, flopping back down next to his co-Tallest and staring up at the ceiling with a groan.

"Ugh…I'm so hungover." He mumbled.

Purple gave a fat yawn of his own before flashing Red an innocent smile. "You wanna order breakfast to the room this time? I think the weekly menu said they're making waffles this morning. Sugar should help."

Red couldn't help the small smile peaking on his face at the delicious idea. "Sure."

* * *

**The present;**

Red shot up with a shout out of Purple's grip, forcing him hard against the wall with a terrified yelp at the sudden movement.

"They wiped our fucking memories?!" He spun around on the mattress, slamming his hands down hard against the box spring with every curse. "They were going to use me as a damn scapegoat to start this war so they could take over our race?!"

Purple swallowed, frozen against the rusted metal. "Red, calm do-"

"Don't tell me to calm down, Purple! I can't believe this is happening!" He shot up and began to pace. "I worked my ass off my entire life to get in good with the Control Brains and climb the social ladder all to please them and they want to kill me off just so they can hide the fact they're going to take our planet?!" His voice escalated with his rage, quickly growing out of control and threatening to combust at a moment's notice. "They used me! They used _us_! They called you a fucking idiot and you want to tell me to calm down?!" He threw his hands in the air as he continued his furious rant. "I've lost blood for them! I've gone to war and I have to remember that every night when I close my eyes all for what? Expansion?! I can't believe I was such an idiot!"

Purple took a deep breath and followed his partner, stopping him mid stride with a palm to the chest and snatching Red's hands when he tried to force him away. "Getting worked up and feeling sorry for yourself won't help anything right now. You're not an idiot, Red. They wiped your memory." He tried to keep his voice level, uncomfortable with the fire in Red's eyes searing against his skin. "I'm pissed off too, alright? I guess I've had a little more time to think about it, but you need to use your anger to fight against _them_, not against me or yourself."

"How, Pur?!" Red retorted, yanking his hands away and ignoring the rationality to his lover's voice. "How the hell are we supposed to fight this when they have the entire Armada on their side?! We're poor, we're criminals, and our only reinforcements are seven pathetic Irkens with basic combat training!"

Purple willed himself to stay calm, determined to not let his partner's agitation dig under his skin. "You think I don't know that?" His words slipped out as a growl when Red eyed him furiously. "You think I don't wanna go down there and blow the shit out of them and Pem for trying to kill you? You need to calm the hell down because you getting the way you get isn't helping!"

"The way I _get_? Oh, pardon me, _my Tallest!"_ Red sneered sarcastically, satisfied when he noticed Purple's antennae twitch with his mounting irritation. "If you're so high and mighty with your little rebellion, please, tell me what your plan is to fix this mess! I would _love_ to hear it if it even exists!"

"You know, I actually do have a plan, Red, but if you're gonna be that way I'm not telling you anything!" Purple yelled, stomping back and throwing himself down on the edge of the mattress with an over exaggerated huff of agitation.

"Tell me. Now." Red demanded, following and looming over his partner, tone laden with cynicism and derision.

Purple thought a moment and shook his head, drawing his antennae back and folding his arms over his chest in defiance. "No." He said simply, drawing out the word for maximum impact.

"_No_? You wanna rethink that answer?"

"No. I meant what I said. I'm not telling you anything until you quit being an asshole."

"Oh, _I'm_ the asshole?! Why am I always the bad guy?!"

"Because, Red, you always freak out and take out your anger on me! I'm your side! I don't get why you're so pissed off at me when you should be getting pissed off at them!" Purple bit back, holding firm to his decision and trying not to sound hurt even when Red's claws felt like they were ripping through his chest. "It's like when things don't go your way, I always have to take the hit! I'm your boyfriend, Red, not some punching bag for you to push around!"

The weight of his partner's words stung Red to the core, euthanizing his fury and tearing his argument in half, forcing his words to die on his lips. He blinked under the dynamism of Purple's mind-bending stare, quickly realizing he was in the wrong and immediately regretting raising his voice. There was a long pause as the tables turned, Purple quickly taking control of the room and whipping Red to his surrender.

"Um…" He began in beaten disbelief, forcing his gaze away when Purple narrowed his eyes aggressively. "You think you're my punching bag?"

Purple rolled his eyes and sunk deeper into himself. "Sometimes. And sometimes I wonder why I even stick around after you do things like this." He jabbed a finger at the hatch. "What would you do if I just walked right out that door and left you here?"

That one hurt. Red hesitated at the threat, terrified that it would transcend his lover's words and become reality. "I don't know." He muttered despondently, wincing when Purple shook his head. "I'd go after you."

"Would you? Am I even worth it to you?"

"What the hell? Of course you're worth it! You're worth more than anything I've ever had."

"Then why do you treat me like this? Why do you treat me the way they do?"

"What do you mean? Like who?"

"Like the Control Brains! You think you can push me around and say whatever you want but we're equals, Red. I'm not here for your entertainment, I'm not here for you to yell at, and I'm not here to blindly listen to everything you say. I want to be treated like your partner, and this is _not_ how partners treat each other!"

Red swallowed thickly at the crushing weight of Purple's words, taking a testing step forward before lowering himself down next to his now irate partner, feeling him shuffle away and watching as he glared heatedly at the floor. But…he was never angry with Purple in the first place. He was furious with the violation of their minds and bodies the Control Brains had forced upon them against their will, and the threat the mechanical monsters had the nerve to put out against their race as a whole. And Pem…he wanted to gut the little beast for putting Purple through the torture he had and draw it out until his agony was so great that he died from the feeling alone. It was never Purple he was furious with…he just needed to get the blistering feeling out before it ate him alive. Red blinked when the complete realization of everything he had said came to a dauting head. He did it again. He had latched on to the only being in the vicinity that would listen to his blind fury, berating the one he loved until he was through…like a punching bag. Oh, Irk. Purple had a point.

"Purple, I'm sorry."

"Yeah, right." Purple mumbled with a sharp, fake laugh, uncrossing his arms and letting himself fall back to instead glare up at the ceiling. "I'm not falling for that again."

"Pur, come on." Red dropped his voice to a soft whisper and tried to reach out for his hand, pulling back when Purple moved away again. "I really am sorry. I wasn't mad at you…It's this whole situation. It's a lot to take in and for the first time in a long time I don't know what to do about it. I just learned that the Control Brains have wanted to assassinate me for cycles all to use me as some kind of scapegoat and keep you alive as a puppet because they think you're stupid. You can't tell me you weren't pissed when you saw that the first time, too." He sighed in defeat when Purple refused to acknowledge his sincerity, desperate to get him to say anything. "Baby, please-"

"No. Don't 'baby' me, Red." Purple shot him a harsh stare over his shoulder, projecting his displeasure like a beam of hot plasma and hoping he burned Red into submission. "I'm trying to be proactive and come up with a plan to fix this and all you do is scream at me? Do you know how awful that makes me feel about myself?"

"What do you want me to say?" Red was practically pleading at this point, his hopelessness overcoming his need to have the last word. "I'm sorry. I'm wrong. I'm an idiot and I should have listened. You're the better Tallest and you always have been. You're the sexiest Irken in the universe. I don't deserve to have you." He rattled off a list of everything he could think of, hoping something would stick and shatter Purple's intense, electric grip around his throat.

"Geez, shut up. You sound pathetic." Purple muttered, relaxing again when Red finally ceased his torrent of overbearing compliments and self-obliteration. He tried to keep up his domineering front when Red moved to hover over him again with a look of pure misery, begging to be forgiven with a sincerity that was finally coming to fruition. How could Purple stay mad at a face like that?

"Please, Pur…don't break up with me. You're my everything. I don't think I could live with myself if I lost that." Red's voice was barely audible over the groan of the ship, forcing Purple back down with a blink of confusion.

"Huh? Why would I break up with you?" He finally turned, giving Red his undivided attention as he searched the pained look on his face. "Why would you even think that?"

Red clicked his claws along the smooth leather of his boots as his nerves spiked, an old habit he couldn't seem to drown. "Because I'm toxic. It's exactly like the hundreds of other times before. I always do this and they always leave."

"They? You mean your ex-girlfriends?"

Nothing.

Purple's expression softened when Red looked to his lap, mulling over how to respond but coming up short. "You really think I would leave you because you have anger issues?"

Red shrugged, confusion creeping back in. "I don't know. You said you would walk out."

"I didn't mean it, though."

"You…you didn't?"

"Hell no! After all the time I spent chasing after you and trying to get your attention back when we were just friends, you think I would be dumb enough to leave you? You were worse back then and I _still_ loved you."

"But…"

Purple groaned in exasperation and ran a cool hand over his eyes. Why did his partner have to be so thick? "Geez, and the Control Brains think _I'm_ the idiot? I'm pissed off right now because you yelled at mefor no reason." He explained slowly, watching as Red tried to rationalize and find some semblance of logic to his words. "Do I want you to keep doing it? No. Am I going to leave you if you do it again? No. But I want you to try and think sometimes before you speak so we don't have to keep having this conversation."

Silence.

"Are you gonna say something?" Purple tried to prompt Red to speak, hoping to draw out some semblance of an answer from his terrified lover. "A conversation takes two people, Red."

"I know." Red began, thinking long and hard about what Purple had said and still reeling from the sudden twinge of fear that he could be left behind in the dust by the one Irken he loved the most. "I…I'm just…I'm sorry."

Purple sighed, knowing their talk had come full circle and reached a standstill. He reached out and brushed his fingers lightly over Red's, blinking in surprise at how quickly and willingly he entwined them in return. "You don't have to keep saying sorry." He tugged slightly, hoping Red would get the point and frowning when he didn't. "I forgive you so stop beating yourself up and lay down with me. I'm cold."

Red let himself breath again, a tiny, nervous smile peaking on his exhausted face as he let his partner drag him down, sighing into the feeling of Purple moving over to lovingly press their shoulders together. It was warm and comforting, a welcome break to the heavy warzone that had formed between them over the past week. The resentment, the fury, the need to be close had gotten the better of them both and drug them into a torrent of emotion that couldn't be contained or smothered by something like love. They needed to get out their hate and fight, to throw curses and sharp jabs until they could finally settle in a ridiculous stalemate and just enjoy each other again like they wanted from the start.

Purple flinched when Red used his free hand to scoop him up around the waist and tug him up onto his chest with a smirk, his surprise quickly fading to a giggle when Red pressed a feather-light kiss to his cheek.

"Now," Red mused playfully, moving to gingerly brush his lips to the corner of his partner's and feeling him smile at the fleeting touch. He pulled away teasingly, reigniting the childlike wonder and passion to their movements. "Tell me about your plan to take back Irk."

Purple licked his lips and rested his head against Red's good shoulder, closing his eyes when he felt his soft breath warm the tips of his frigid antennae. "You're not gonna like it." He whispered, melting into the tenderness but still feeling himself shiver despite the rush of heat flooding his veins.

"Try me." Red mumbled, letting go of Purple's hand to trail his palms up under the thick fabric of his jacket, brushing aside his layers to the very center of who he was and eating up the feeling of being so alive again. "I wanna know."

Another light kiss to his jaw had Purple breathing deliberately and slow as if to force himself to focus against the glorious, unexpected assault on his senses. "W-Well…" He breathed, leaning into the sensation of Red's lips peppering down his neck before drawing back completely, affording him only a taste of what was to come. "We need troops on our side, and we can't go after Irken forces directly so I took the only option I could see and called the Prime Minister of Inquisitoria. I know it sounds crazy, but we're on the same side now, so I thought it was worth a shot."

Red purred against his partner's skin, staying just far enough to ghost him with his breath but never moving further. "And what did he say?" Red's voice dropped an octave, forcing Purple to draw a slow, shaky breath at the sweltering sound to keep himself from completely dissolving into Red's grip.

"H-He agreed to meet with us…and agreed to form an alliance with the IRM if we gave him what he wanted." He mumbled, squirming slightly when Red's hands found their way to the sensitive seam of his PAK, running the length of his mechanical lifeline with gentle, chilly fingers. He could barely think, stumbling over his words and feeling Red's pulse quicken under his palms. "In exchange…um…i-in exchange for troops and weapons, we had to pay reparations for the death of Nulol and…if we win the war…we have to give up Vort."

Red shoved his partner off a little too quickly, sitting up and blinking in surprise as he slowly came to terms with what that meant. The Empire would be one planet less in their immediate star system and Vort would forever be a thorn in their side, a tripwire for rebellion after rebellion to sweep through the galaxy and undermine their grip on everything they had worked hard to take. Inquisitoria would undoubtedly give the Vortian people political control of their planet and they would name a new leader before seeking out the Irken Empire and beginning another Irken-Vortian conflict. Was this really what they had to resort to?

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Red swallowed, letting his apprehensions get the best of him. He knew how this would end, and it wouldn't be pretty. "I mean…"

"Nulol's daughter is the Inquisitorian Minister of Defense." Purple reminded, moving forward and placing his hands teasingly on Red's shoulders, trying to force the disgusting name out of his mind. "We have no choice and we need to take what we can get for now. If we wanna take the planet back after we're in power again, fine. We need the help, Red, and you know it. This way, we're guaranteed ships, weapons, and men to wage our war against the Control Brains and take that worm Pem out for good. We have a conference with Sledhob in the morning. But…" He forced Red onto his back with an impish smile. "We have a few hours before we get there, and Pem ruined our date the last time." He paused, half-lidded eyes overcome by a sudden desire for more that made Red's skin prickle. "You promised me we would push our beds together but now that we can't do that, what are you gonna do to make it up to me?"

Red raised his hands in defense, feeling his situation escalate rapidly when Purple leisurely undid the front of his jacket, not once breaking heavy eye contact from above as he tugged it open and worked it off before moving languidly to his boots. Red eyed him a moment before grinning, thoroughly loving where he was sure this was leading. He mumbled something under his breath, reaching out when his lover finally kicked his shoes off and dragging him back down on top of him, tenderly bringing their mouths together as his hands were guided on by some unseen force and the burning need to map out every curve, every bone and muscle he could feel under his powerful touch.

Purple returned the hot-blooded kiss, deepening the connection and dragging his claws up Red's sides through his robes, feeling him twitch and squirm under the weight of his body and the sudden enthusiasm behind his touch. He missed this. The rewarding feeling of intimacy and mind-blowing body heat crashing over him set alight a fire in the pit of his stomach that he couldn't contain, sighing into Red's mouth and feeling it turn to a breathy moan when his hands threatened to trail lower, toying with his waistband but never quite giving him enough. Purple sighed and arched his back, trying with mounting desperation to guide Red's teasing touch to feel him completely and force away the anguish of isolation and unwitting solitary confinement he had been forced to endure for days. Red didn't comply, moving his hands away again and instead focusing on the hem of his partner's shirt, tugging coyly as he grinned against his lips and captured him with the force of another fervid kiss. Purple could feel his mind numbing as his PAK stalled, overcome by the weightlessness and fast-growing temperature bouncing between them. Everything about Red felt right; the beautiful scars dotting his back as Purple's fingers dipped mischievously below his collar, the lusciously unbelievable dominion he shrouded Purple in as his patient tongue begged for access to his hot mouth before pushing past his teeth and conquering him, his incredible experience and desire to please his partner above anything. Perfection…pure, unbridled, unreal perfection.

Purple groaned and let Red explore his mouth, the fringes of rampant stimulation tugging at his spooch as he fought to keep himself upright, wanting to succumb to the strong arms and wandering hands dancing up to smooth over his shoulders and tease at the back of his neck. It was unusual and bizarre, an inkling of a beautiful thought breaking through the haze Red was bearing down and clouding his senses with; they could do this now. They could touch and laugh and openly talk about their relationship as much as they wanted. They could do this without threat of death or being reprimanded, without an Empire bearing down on their shoulders and forcing them into two distinct lines of social order. Forget social order. They would create a galaxy where love and fear didn't have to coexist hand in hand, but a home where love _blinded_ fear. They had both lost their status and were reduced to nothing more than wandering felons, two former Tallest turned rogue and digging out each other's regret with light fingertips and warmhearted kisses that made them both forget their false opulence in the first place. What use was luxury and power if you had to limit yourself and bend to the wishes and wonton desires of those supposedly above you? Purple was through restraining himself and by the heightening appetite of Red's hungry lips against his, it was more than obvious that he was too. There would be no more hiding. They would be made public on intergalactic transmissions and documents all over the universe, the snapshot of their famous moment in the Spike of Judgment splayed viciously before everyone in the Empire and branding them as the defective title Purple had come to adore. If loving Red made him defective, fine. He would go through hell a million times over to wake up next to him every morning and have a shot at a glorious future with him. Defective had become synonymous with free.

They were finally free.

Purple bit his lip and held back another low moan as Red cupped him under the jaw, tenderly exposing his supple neck with a chuckle. "Let's see," he breathed between soft butterfly kisses, using his free hand to tug lightly at Purple's collar and expose his shoulder. "If I remember, you liked it here."

Purple stiffened at the sudden sweltering heat of Red's tongue against the sensitive nape of his neck, barely a swipe of a touch at first and quickly escalating into a feverish mix of biting teeth and well-practiced lips sucking deep, flowering bruises into perfect milky skin. He tried to hold back his voice but couldn't, falling apart under his lover's passionate barrage as he scrambled and clawed at his shoulders, desperate for any purchase he could find to keep himself from losing his sense of reality to the strange pressure shooting down his spine with every bite. Every so often, Red would be kind and let up, replacing his sharp teeth with the gentle ribbing of his tongue and a few well placed, sloppy kisses, smoothing away the pain and pulling back to admire the gorgeous splashes of bright pinks and vivid purples he had painted across his partner's skin before he was on him again.

"Oh shit, Red." Purple managed to squeak out between ragged breaths, digging his fingers into his partner's collarbone with a hiss. "Y-your tongue. Holy fuck, your tongue!"

Red pulled away, reaching up and dragging a teasing palm across the beautiful masterpiece he had created and grinning when Purple flinched at the dull ache. "You know, I was always known for being good with my tongue." He whispered suggestively, planting a final kiss to the freshly raw sea of color dotting his partner's neck. "I didn't get to show you last time…you…uh…wanna see?"

"See?" Purple repeated, pushing up and staring down at Red beneath him before freezing at the seriousness of his expression. His eyes flickered to the tiny hole that used to house his canine before vaulting back to the vulgar, darkened crimson eating away at his better judgement and making him weak in the knees. "You mean…"

"You know what I mean." Red gave him a slow nod and bit his lip with a grin, trailing his eyes down his chest and eating up what little he could catch sight of under his clothing. "I've been wondering what you taste like."

Purple's mind went blank, a lust induced dizziness falling over him as he tried to pull himself away from the horrendously indecent, unbelievably filthy question Red was proposing. He had wondered what Red's tongue would feel like between his legs but it had never clicked in his mind that it would actually happen someday, or that his partner would ever been into something like that. He couldn't think, too many questions and feelings bogging him down when Red pushed off the mattress below him, gently lowering him back and setting to work undoing the luxurious clasps of his robes with an eager smile.

"Wait," Purple swallowed, watching as his partner shucked his layers. "You actually wanna…with your…?"

Red blinked, not seeing the issue and settling back into their mouthwatering game, running his hands leisurely along Purple's calves and inching ever-so-slowly up to graze his thighs through the fabric deviously keeping them millimeters apart. "Duh. Why wouldn't I?"

Purple felt like everything was moving in blurred slow motion when Red finally drew his knees apart, reclining on his chest and placing nimble, skilled touches here and there, watching his partner's reactions carefully. "But I'm male, Red. I'm gonna be different than a female." Purple stuttered, choking a bit on his words when Red's hands landed dangerously high, kneading the soft flesh he found there and making him see sparks.

Red glanced up from between his legs and gave him a long slow blink, flushed with color and practically oozing pheromones that had Purple's antennae itching to get closer. Holy shit, he actually wanted to do this. Red wanted to do this. Red wanted to taste him. What would his mouth feel like? What would that hot breath he'd tasted so many times now feel like…down there?

"You still think I care about that?" Red's smile was amorous and warm, holding Purple's thoughtful eye contact as he leaned forward and pressed a single, open-mouthed kiss to his partner's zipper and chuckled when his jaw went slack. "All it means is I know exactly how to make you feel good." He paused, reaching up and hooking his fingers into Purple's waistband once more. "Can I see, Pur?"

Purple felt like Red had thawed him into incredible, mind-bending submission when he felt his palm finally rake up between his legs, applying pressure to the growing heat pooling deep within him and making him squirm. Finally, he nodded, squeezing his eyes shut and helping Red unhurriedly work off his pants and pull them down past his ankles. He clamped his knees shut again when Red flashed him a toothy grin that quickly turned to a frown when Purple went to shuck his shirt.

"Wait…leave that on."

Purple returned his scowl, holding his breath when Red carefully peeled his trembling thighs apart and completely exposed him to the chilly air of their dark bedroom, pausing when he shivered in the cold. "Why? You're naked so why can't I be?"

"Don't laugh but…" Red pulled himself forward, running the warm tip of his tongue along the sensitive insides of his partner's thighs and nearly losing himself at the cacophony of breathy noises and tiny moans spilling on impulse from somewhere deep in his mind. "…seeing you in my shirt like that is really turning me on."

Purple couldn't help himself, falling into a trap of raspy giggles and immature snickers at the compliment as Red ground to a halt and shot him a look. "I'm sorry!" Purple laughed, clamping a hand over his mouth as he panted, unable to bring himself down from the rush coursing through his nervous system. "I promise it's not funny! It's just you're too cute for your own good, you know that?"

"It's not the shirt, idiot! It's seeing _you_ in _my_ shirt." Red growled, rolling his eyes to try and mask his growing embarrassment before snaking forward once more, reaching out with impatient fingers before stopping short a few painful inches from his partner's heat. "And don't ever call me cute again. It's wierd."

Purple closed his eyes and leaned back, reaching above his head and gripping at the luxurious comforter beneath him with a sharp gasp as a single fleeting touch grazed gently over his dripping slit before working back down. He rolled forward when Red experimentally dipped a finger further inside, humming excitedly with keen anticipation when he was able to slip deeper past his lover's entrance with little effort. It didn't take long to find a steady rhythm, Red alternating between curling and rubbing agonizingly slow circles over Purple's sweet spot and delving to the knuckle when he would grind and writhe against his hand. It wasn't enough, and Red knew that, drawing out the slow building pleasure coming to a simmer just past his reach, holding back just enough to keep his lover on the dangerous edge he wanted to leap from. Purple nearly lost his mind, moaning into the incredible overstimulation when Red pulled back, quickly adding a second finger and thrusting back in without warning, feeling his pulse go erratic when his partner squeezed down around him and shivered violently into his touch. He could barely stand it; the sight of Purple flushed with color, dotted with deep violet bruises and grinding against his fingers, trying to force Red deeper somehow, to force him to take him past the brink of excruciating expectation and gift him the release he so desperately needed had Red's mouth watering. He couldn't wait, not when he felt himself finally unfurl and slip free, begging to sink into that warm, wet heat and take Purple for everything he was. He needed him…needed to be inside him…needed to taste him. He pulled back, hooking his arms underneath his partner's hips and locking him firmly in place before dipping down and running his long, slick tongue the length of his slit, biting back a throaty groan at his partner's delicious, absolutely delectable taste. Irk, how had he missed out on this all these cycles? If he had ever imagined sex with Purple would have been this amazing, he would have transcended the boundaries of social law a long time ago and never looked back, allowing himself to get lost in that gorgeous body and those equally beautiful, bleary eyes begging him for more.

At the sudden feeling, Purple yelped and threw his head back, feeling his voice contort to something in between a hopeless plead and a shout of undeniable craving for Red to go further. It was blistering hot, slippery, and unlike any sensation he had ever felt. In fact, it was almost too much too quickly, Purple feeling himself break free against his partner's cheek and flying down to grab Red hard by the antennae when he let his domineering hold on his hips go, instead running his now warm fingertips over his partner's length and letting his wiggling tip slip and curl through his hands. It was strange...not in a bad way but in a way that made Red nervous. He wanted to do a good job, wanted to live up to his name as he worked his mouth against his partner's skin and felt him melt like delicious ice cream with every lick. This was uncharted territory for Red, anatomy he was so intimately familiar with but still so unbelievably clueless as to how to proceed. He glanced up, vision distorted and subdued by the intensity of the sounds, the smells, the colors and flavors assaulting his senses and kicking him into animalistic overdrive. He gave a tentative squeeze and was rewarded with the beautiful sight of Purple vaulting from the mattress, frantic hands running the lengths of Red's overstimulated antennae and pushing back hard against his mouth. He was gorgeous. The way he moved, the graceful curve of his spine, the way the faint light bounced off those intense violet orbs just right...absolutely stunning. Red didn't deserve him. He didn't deserve the unfathomable love Purple showered him with, the jaded arguments they would dance into and waltz out of hand in hand, or the wordless affections shared in passing in the form of a tiny glance or light brush of the hand. He didn't deserve the incredible intelligence Purple hid under his ditzy exterior or the growing adeptness of the powerful, all-dominating leader he was evolving to be. But, still, Purple wanted him and had sought him out, latching on to the scarred, mangled Irken he once was and soothing his open wounds with his compassionate, loving words and his generous body, stitching him back together and making whole the millions of shattered fragments Red had believed himself to be. He was whole again. Here, now, and cycles down the line...he was whole.

Red's name became the only word in Purple's once extensive, loud-mouthed vocabulary, chanting and moaning until it sounded foreign against his tongue and clouded his mind with the deep, profound hue of Red's sweltering eye color. He definitely wasn't lying about being fantastic with his mouth; Purple now understood the hushed whispers and overexaggerated swoons of lady officers in the corridors of the Massive back when they were both still young, spreading rumors about how fantastic Red was at spreading legs. Purple would go so far as to say he was an expert in eating out, alternating between slow flat licks and bombarding his already blown out senses with teasing slips past his entrance, never dipping quite far enough to cause his almost excruciating, sweltering pleasure to crest. Red was unraveling him, taking him apart piece by piece until he could barely stand the mind-numbing intensity. He could still hardly believe someone so picky, someone so infinitely powerful and callous, had chosen him above all others; Red had taken his hand and pulled him from the terrifying darkness of his own internalized self-loathing, shrouding him in the warm, temperate light of wholehearted protection and mutual desire that Purple had never thought he would ever have. With every passing hour...no...every passing minute, they grew closer it seemed, digging ferocious claws into raw emotional baggage and going to war with each other's inhibitions until they were caught in a mutual firestorm of undying passion and unbelievably deep, true, untainted love. It wasn't just sex. It never had been and it never would be; it was an act of devotion, a means to get closer to the carefully hidden and protected cores of each other and peel back those iron doors to see the whole of the Irken hiding beneath. Red had blown open his fortress, his apocalyptic bunker, and Purple let him, losing himself to the venerability of his partner's warm, sopping mouth and the fear of being overtaken by his assault at a moment's notice. He needed Red. He needed him more than he needed sugar and needed him more than he needed hydrogen. He was his lifeline, his one Irken army, and right now Purple couldn't think of anything else than being taken hostage behind enemy lines.

Then, Red read his mind. He stopped completely and moved back, holding his partner's twitching length still as he breathed softly against his heat, forcing Purple to blink in hazy uncertainty before his eyes widened in shock at the invasive, scorching, irresistible feeling of Red's tongue opening him up and nearly pushing him past his threshold. It was completely unexpected, a feeling so natural but infinitely unnatural; a heat so blistering but still forcing him to shiver. Purple held his breath when Red stopped, allowing him a much needed reprieve and time to adjust before digging into his hips and starting again. Red moved unbearably slow, moaning against his partner's body as he slipped a bit further than his fingers could reach, taking him almost completely before curling deeply against all the right places, feeling Purple tense and cry out at the beautiful, overpowering, filthy realization that he was getting off from his partner's racy, loud mouth. That was it. Purple fell apart completely, losing what was left of his threadbare sanity and resorting to instinct alone, grinding hard against his lover's face as he whimpered and whined out his viscous pleasure, nearly suffocating Red as he worked him faster, tasting every bit of Purple's sweet flesh as he could and drawing him closer and closer to the dangerous precipice he was barely clinging to.

"Oh fuck!" He clenched his teeth when Red dove a bit deeper, squeezing around his length and stroking him agonizingly slow as they rocked in tandem. "Fuck, don't stop! Please! Don't stop! _Please_!"

There was a sudden swell deep inside Purple's core that shot up his spine when Red pressed up hard against his sweet spot, his pleasure finally cresting and blooming into a full blown, vivid climax as he spasmed and clamped down hard on Red's tongue. His breath hitched and he scrambled to throw his legs around his lover's shoulders, feeling him try to gasp in surprise before smashing him hard against his body and holding him there as he shuddered and half moaned, half screamed unashamedly for the entire ship to hear. Red squeezed his eyes shut as his partner rode wave after wave of spine breaking ecstasy and released against his cheek, finally liberating his now sore antennae from his powerful grip and letting his arms fall to his sides when he went limp and struggled to catch his breath.

Purple went slack jawed when he felt Red's long tongue slither back, replaced by a gentle, affectionate kiss to his slit and soft but calloused hands trailing soothing lines up his thighs, a welcome comfort after the intensity of the incredible orgasm he'd been given, shuddering under Red's loving touch. Finally, he relaxed enough for Red to pull away, moving up from between Purple's legs with a wide toothy grin before licking his slick lips teasingly and running his tongue over his broken smile at the sight of his beautiful lover lightheaded and completely satisfied beneath him. He had done that. He had painted Purple's neck as his own personal masterpiece. He had ruined him, unraveled him, conquered him in ways he had only dreamed about all with the simple flick of his tongue and curl of his fingers.

Purple blinked, slowly coming off his weightless high when Red wiped his sticky mouth on the back of his hand before going to clean his chin with a chuckle.

"Damn, Pur." He sounded completely out of breath, trying to will himself back from the gorgeous, raunchy display Purple had given him and feeling his face flush with dark hues of deeply amorous pink. "I think…I think you almost ripped my antennae out."

"Mm...'m sorry." Purple breathed leisurely, letting his eyes flutter shut in contented bliss when the final ripples of pleasure cascaded through his body, settling in the pit of his stomach and leaving him with the undeniable feeling of fluttering butterflies.

Red chuckled again, admiring the woozy, unhinged look plastered over his lover's face and the dizzy look slowly lifting from his unfocused eyes. "Man...was it really _that_ good?" He toyed softly, grazing his fingers back down Purple's thighs as his lover sighed liltingly with a faint, ethereal blink. "That was only round one."

"Huh?" Purple mumbled, still not completely with it when Red shifted, pulling him forward by the hips and propping himself up on his knees, moving down to line himself up with his still oversensitive entrance. "Wait…h-hang on Red."

Red stopped, leaning forward to plant a messy, uncoordinated kiss to his lover's mouth, drawing another soft moan from the back of his throat when his hard, squirming length brushed between them. "What's wrong? You need a chance to calm down?" He asked softly with genuine concern, running a soothing hand down Purple's chest and stopping to feel his wild pulse thumping through his veins. "If it's too much we can stop." He gave his partner another lingering kiss, restoring the deep set, unwavering trust between them.

Safe. Red felt safe. He was a terrible, explosive mess; an angry, cocky, overconfident narcissist with a power complex but still, through all the fighting and all the pain, all the mental disarray and violent war flashbacks in his sleep, through all the alliances he destroyed and plots he fell victim to...Red was safe. Purple pulled away for breath, mind fogging when he could taste remnants of himself hanging on Red's lips and feeling another strange spike of pleasure rip through him when his partner rolled forward, suggestively grazing him once more and begging him silently for permission to continue. He wasn't just his boyfriend anymore. Purple could hardly say that Red was even his partner at this point. They were growing to be something much deeper on a molecular level, itching to join in the most intimate of ways and take all of each other for exactly what they were. One full of irate hatred, burning passion, and enough despondency to piss off a saint. The other full of overpowering emotion, stubborn attachment, and a needy compulsion to be loved that would drive anyone else mad. They were perfect for each other, two volatile bombs of solid mental disease and defectiveness going off in each others arms and propelling each other to new heights. They were two halves of the same PAK, two sides of the same coin...two broken soulmates cast adrift and only coming to life when they were able to breathe it into one another.

"You...you wanna fuck me? But I just came." Purple's dispute was flimsy and halfhearted, more of a teasing feeler tossed flippantly out to see what Red would shoot back at him and secretly hoping he would sink into him without arguing. Purple reached up, running a soft hand behind his partner's neck and trailing his fingers up to graze his hot lips, flashing him a groggy smile before biting his lip expectantly. He moaned suggestively, as if to give Red a tiny taste of what he could have if he took it, teasing Red into submission and bending him to his sadistic will. He officially broke up Red's concerns, reaching down and splaying himself with his free hand before teasing lightly at his entrance for his partner to watch with salacious, half lidded eyes. Red froze and swallowed at the risqué sight of Purple digging his fingers inside of himself, scissoring them to try and simulate the feeling of fullness he just couldn't seem to recreate.

"Do you want me, Red?" He moaned, quickening his pace as his partner sat dumbfounded between his legs, thoroughly enjoying the show with an almost blank, wide eyed gawk. "You wanna be my fingers?"

"Woah..." He breathed, unable to look away and feeling Purple's light, desperate noises frying his biological brain to nothing. Purple didn't have to try hard to blow his mind, and his cheeky psychological warfare was most certainly working in more ways than one.

Purple watched him with a provocative smile, squirming against the heavy need to feel his partner moving and throbbing inside him, unsatisfied by the unacceptable lack of release his own hands couldn't bring. He needed more. He needed so much more and he needed Red to know that, wanted it to seep into every crack of doubt and self-pity remaining in his mind and smooth it over like concrete.

"Come on, I think you can do better than that." Purple tried to manage a giggle but it came out as a strained groan instead as he gave a shaky exhale. "Tell me you want me. Now."

Red's pulse was deafening in his antennae, forcing away every thought that graced his shorting mind and giving him tunnel vision to the lewd, seductive prince mewling and squirming beneath him, daring him to speak up and fight back with equal force. "Holy shit...I want you." Red smirked, shaking his head at the pitifully glorious fervor his partner had suddenly been consumed by. He leaned back down, pressing himself flush with his partner's searing body as he moved, planting ruthlessly ludic kisses across his flushed chest. "Is this how you would do it when I was away at conferences?"

All concept of speech left Purple's frayed psyche as his temperature skyrocketed to a whole new level, burning under the sudden intensity of his autarchic lover's vibrant gaze running over him in languid sweeps, scrutinizing every detail of his body and turning him into a deprived, feral savage practically begging to be taken. All he could do was nod, thawing and liquifying when Red's eyes lit up with a curious but pitiless interest.

"Did you ever fantasize about me?"

Another frantic nod followed by hot, untamed breath escaping from parted lips.

"Did you ever scream my name?"

A torrent of haphazard and inelegant syllables of agreement, stumbling over each other as long fingers delved deep.

Red chuckled darkly, moving back up to steal another light kiss to the tender sting mounting under his manic partner's collar. "Thinking about me while you finger yourself _and_ stealing my shirt? Who knew I was dating such a pervert, Pur."

Purple's breathing escalated to an urgent pant as another flagrant, immodest moan shattered what was left of Red's rational mind and hooked him hard into alluring grip of his vicious, Irk-shatteringly gorgeous partner manipulating him for his own twisted desires beneath him. "Just shut your mouth and hurry up!" He whined loudly, giving a few final, hard thrusts before ripping his hands away. "Please, Red. I want you inside me...I want you to fuck me."

Red couldn't help himself, overcome by the potent scent pouring off his lover's bewitching form and drawing him in like a moth to a flame. He moved forward, immediately forcing himself into the tight, plush heat he had come to crave more than any drug he could pump himself with or bottle he could hammer back. Purple was his lucid high, the thick sedative pounding through his bloodstream, numbing him to everything but the feeling of being swallowed whole as he groaned heavily under his breath. It was unbearable, excruciating, and lusciously mind-blowing all in one, feeling his partner open up with every inch and squeeze around him as he cried out at the feeling of being filled to the brim. Red didn't waste any time in giving Purple exactly what he wanted, setting a rugged but gentle pace when his strung out lover dug his claws furiously into his hips with every thrust, practically guiding and urging him with soft words dripping with liquid pleasure to take him completely, to move just a little faster, delve a little deeper. He couldn't think straight, resorting to using Purple's unstable hands against his balmy skin as a roadmap to when he should speed up, every touch setting him ablaze as he lost himself to the unbelievable sensation.

Purple could barely stand it, stunned by the deep, concentrated sensitivity still rocketing through his body and only heightening the feeling of his partner stretching and writhing inside him. It didn't hurt this time, exchanging pain for a powerful burn and a hungry, fanatical need to be pounded hard into their mattress and dominated by the only being allowed to see him this venerable, to hear him this brazen and unashamed. He watched Red with wide hazy eyes as he finally slammed into that glorious spot only he could reach, nearly sending him through the roof at the profound sense of fullness and throwing his head back when Red chased him closer and closer to his glorious second climax. Purple met Red's hips with every hard thrust, grinding up to prolong the deep stimulation he craved and needed to finally spill over the edge, gripping him tightly when he noticed his partner's jaw lock and his even pace become erratic and rushed, forcing moan after delicious moan to cascade from Purple's mouth and drive him on to his own personal rapture.

He came hard, screaming out Red's name like it was the last time he would ever say it and cutting into his skin as his lover pounded him through it, frantic to draw out the blissful ecstasy and dynamic euphoria of agonizingly sweet release. Red ate it up, slumping forward when Purple grabbed him and forced him down into a bruising, feverish kiss that left them both delirious before finally releasing deep inside him, earning a final, brutal cry of pure trance-like frenzy into his mouth at the incredible feeling of being taken so wholly. Purple would forever be Red's and Red would forever be Purple's...there was no doubt and no fear, only the elated afterglow of incoherent 'I love you's' and lackadaisical mouths smearing impassioned kisses over shoulders and necks as the formless high settled and bloomed in their now heavy chests. Fingers entwined and the feeling of impenetrable satisfaction occupied every corner and crevice of the room, rebounding when they finally let go of one another with weak, lightheaded giggles and Red pulled the comforter over his shivering lover, drawing him in to warm him with his body heat.

When it was over, the two laid together for a long while in the dark, shoulder to shoulder under the soft covers and whispering sweet nothings as the ship rocked and groaned in the vacuum of space cradling them outside. Loving hands grazed mindlessly over wide expanses of sweat-sticky skin, legs entwined and locked together for warmth in the chilly air, stupid, giddy giggles were exchanged at even dumber jokes cutting through the peaceful void creeping in around them. After what seemed like hours of gentle nuzzling and silky, feather-light kisses pressed to salty cheeks and smooth shoulders, Red spoke up, voice hoarse and a phantom of a whisper against Purple's antennae but still the most comforting sound in his world.

"We could do it, you know." He breathed effortlessly, pressing to his lover's cheek and feeling him exhale affectionately against him. "Find a place...get some new furniture...we could run and never look back."

Purple rolled onto his side and ran a palm over the minefield of terrible scars splayed over his partner's beautifully imperfect skin. "You mean start a new life? You'd do that for me?" He whispered, stopping to trace Red's massive knife wound, relishing in the feeling of his firm, raised flesh under his fingertips.

Red buried his face in the crook of Purple's heavily bruised neck, drawing a tiny giggle out of him when he placed a teasing kiss to his collarbone. "Why not? It's not like we have anything to lose at this point." Red paused, slipping into deep thought for a few fleeting moments. "I want to give you the life you deserve, Purple. You deserve to be happy and get away from disgusting backwater places like this. Let me take you away from here."

"You know we can't do that, honey."

"Honey? Gross. That's a new one."

"Oh…eh…yeah. I guess it is."

Red erupted into a fit of soft laughter against his partner's sweet skin, refusing to pull away when Purple did the same and finally wrapping his arms around his lover's waist to absentmindedly trace his ribs. "Fuck, we sound so old already. Quit aging me with your weird love talk."

"Sorry. I'm just getting a head start for when we're married." Purple swallowed and immediately went stiff to the accidental threshold he had forced them both over, gently closing his eyes when the words slipped out effortlessly against his will. "Shit…sorry. I know that was weird."

Surprisingly, Red brushed it off completely, continuing his assault of innocent, pure laughter and reaching up to gently brush at his lover's soft antennae. Not only did he not seem to mind, much to Purple's relief, he actually sounded strangely...happy at the mistake, almost like they had just shared a tiny secret no one else was allowed to know. "Why is it weird? We've got a lot of life ahead of us, so anything's possible…_honey_." He teased back, jabbing Purple hard in the ribs.

Purple yelped and stabbed back with a cheesy grin, letting another giggle flow between them as Red pressed their foreheads together with a toothy smile, smoothing back over Purple's shoulders and along the soft groove of his thin collarbone.

"Seriously though…If you wanna run, I'll run with you." Red leaned back in, placing a deep, infinitely loving kiss to Purple's lips before pulling away with a soft smile. "I'm ready to go now if you are."

Purple thought a moment. They could go anywhere they wanted now, anywhere in the universe and fight their way back to the top somewhere. They could forget about Irk and the Control Brains completely and live out the rest of their lives on an uninhabited moon or a society that didn't even know them, following the domestic bliss he had dreamed about and run over in his mind thousands of times. He and Red had a shot at being normal, having a beautiful wedding ceremony someday and branding each other with whatever mark they decided upon before finding regular jobs and living as civilians. Purple could tend the house and work in a humble garage somewhere on old rusted out ships while Red put his military training to good use somehow as a day guard or a domestic pilot for beings too poor to afford their own ships. He would come home at night dressed to the nines in his uniform and Purple could watch him amorously as he peeled it off and climbed into bed with him, sharing in hushed pillow talk until they giggled themselves to sleep. It would be beautiful…just the two of them without the weight of the Empire crashing down and threatening to suffocate them both with warfare and bloodshed. Purple blinked and felt his smile fade. Bloodshed. If they left for good, no matter how fantastic that fantasy of a life could be, millions would die alone and be enslaved against their wills by a corrupt dictatorship promising them a beautiful light that would never come. He thought about ferocious Teem and her devotion to the IRM and about little Kez up deck working frantically to restore communications to their pathetic excuse for a flagship. He thought about Lard Nar chain smoking in the pilot's seat, guiding them on safely to their destination with his undying need to avenge the loss of his choked-out lover and his murdered younger brother to the monster lurking beneath their feet. They were his friends…his family. _Their_ family. There were over 150 Irkens chatting restlessly in the mess hall right now waiting to be addressed by their new leaders before they arrived at Inquisitoria and entered the next chapter of their long story. Each one of them had given up on the Empire and turned their backs in defiance to the menace of the Control Brains and their Vortian puppet, ready to throw their inexperienced hands over triggers and pistol casings to defend the home none of them had ever been given the privilege to hold. He and Red had to be their dependable leaders, their authoritative commanders leading them to their potential, sickening deaths in battle. They had to be their teachers, their greatest allies, and their shining light in a world without hope. They were the only light left in this cold, dreary, callous universe they were forced to call home, and Purple knew that. As much as he wanted to take Red's hand and hop in a Spittle Runner with only the clothes on their backs and take off to new heights and lands undiscovered, he couldn't leave Irk behind. He couldn't leave his nationality to rot at the hands of those willing to destroy it.

Purple swallowed and shook his head, feeling Red's antennae relax and droop against him when he knew what he was going to say. "No. We can't give up everything we've worked for." He moved back, looking Red in the eye and running a slow thumb tenderly over his cheek. "I think you already know that."

Red blinked and leaned into the nurturing touch, pulling his partner back flush with his chest as he glanced out their massive, dusty window, eyeing a tiny cerulean speck slowly fading into view from afar. He knew Purple was right; they were destined to blow a hole in this dictatorship and split Pem's seemingly foolproof plan in half with the hammer of karma. They had to be the reapers of the dammed, mounting and laying brutal waste to the Control Brains' ploy in the most prolific Irken civil war since their planet's founding. They couldn't walk away...not yet.

Red gave another tiny chuckle when Purple sighed silently against him. "Well…" he began, hunting for something graceful to say as Inquisitoria floated wistfully alone in the distance, millions of miles away but still so close. "…then let's hit 'em with everything we've got."

* * *

I literally just wrote two whole pages of Red eating Purple out. You're welcome bros. See you next time for our update on **Wednesday, 10.16.2019 at 10:00 pm CDT**! Thanks for tuning in as always!


	18. Training Day

Good evening lovely viewers and thanks for tuning back in to "My Kind!" I'm going to bang this chapter out in one sitting, so I'm pretty excited to get it done!

For those of you interested, I also have another fluffy RAPR oneshot out now called "_**Finish Your Coffee**_," that was a request from one of our lovely viewers here, so feel free to check that little baby out if you're interested! It's _way_ fluffier than I'm used to writing so it was a challenge but a fun one.

**Chapter rated T for brief language, mild violence, and general adult themes.**

* * *

Inquisitoria was massive, a gargantuan orb of swirling oceanic gasses and strange technology drifting lazily through orbit as the flagship dipped dangerously close to the atmosphere. Purple had suggested they meet with Sledhob in casual attire, so as to not intimidate or rock their already precarious relationship to take a turn for the worst, guiding Red to the loading dock to wait for a patrol to scoop them up and carry them to the opulent surface of the planet. Kez had brought the faulty communications systems back online and was finally allowed to use her extensive officer's training to her advantage, chatting furiously with Inquisitorian guards on the surface and ringing the stratosphere and reassuring them with soft words and that much needed, kind voice that there would be no foul play or weaponry taken into Sledhob's personal estate. In return, the Ministry of Defense had requested Lard Nar to also be present for the agreement, pinning him as an unrehearsed decision maker for the native citizens of Vort, much to his terrified surprise, before sending out a small but dominating fleet of battle cruisers to run a thorough sweep of the beaten down Viral Tank, scanning the internal components and all lifeforms aboard with heavy x-ray technology and reporting their findings directly back to the Prime Minister. When it was determined no threats were posed, Sledhob's gorgeous, deep navy flagship was ushered into the pathetic, rusted out docking port and the three were immediately flanked by a troop of heavily armed guards brandishing sleek plasma rifles. They had been forced into their seats and strapped in by the nimble hands of one of Sledhob's personal advisors before shooting off to the surface and dipping under the substantial blanket of warm clouds, leaving their tiny, laughable excuse of an army behind in the stars.

Inquisitorian society was bizarre and considerably extensive, rolling cities spanning the entire surface of the planet and sprinkled with smooth, modern skyscrapers and powerful radio towers. The glossy domes of massive observatories dotted every hill in sight and universities spanned every block, thick waves of fresh-faced students constantly pouring in and out of the gorgeous architecture carrying heavy loads of books and readers in their eager arms. There was a strange, but overpowering need to learn more, to soak up as much information as possible and become better, well-rounded citizens for the good of their society as a whole.

Purple had secretly eyed Red the entire descent, noticing the tiny twinges of growing nervousness hidden deep in his worried eyes as they neared Sledhob's colossal cerulean estate, the entire surface of the building covered in glassy, reinforced windows and long scrolling banners adorned with the overly elaborate Inquisitorian crest. Two personal telescopes jutted through the ribbed roof, leisurely scanning breaks in the dense clouds as they swiveled on their heavy axis' and recorded everything they could possibly scrutinize for future research. As soon as the landing gear touched the soft lawn of their, hopefully, ally's mansion, the three were again tugged to their feet and flanked before being practically shoved from the ship and out into the weighty, sweet-smelling atmosphere.

Lard Nar stayed close to Purple's side out of uneasy panic, relying on his new friend's domineering presence to cast a comforting shadow over his nerves as his tiny hands were held respectfully behind his back. Purple noticed and tried not to sneer in revulsion, refocusing on the daunting task of having to stroll into the planet's heart without so much as a boot knife to provide him with some sense of comfort. Sledhob had been surprisingly eager to speak after he had watched the collective downfall of Purple and Red from their status of Tallest, relishing in the audacity they shared to go so public with their illegal relationship and laughing warmly with Purple over transmission when he recounted the events. Purple hadn't been able to tell at the time if his voice was laced with disgust or respect, or hovering somewhere in between at the mention of Nulol's name and the unnerving reimbursements for the loss of his life, but he knew there would be no other way to move past the damming dogfight Red had caused until Vort was unfortunately given over to the clutches of the one-eyed philosopher. All Purple knew is that they definitely couldn't mess this one up. If they failed and Pem's plans to pit their former empire against Inquisitoria over Vort exploded, all would be lost. After everything they had already ruined, the universe was giving them a chance to align with the only standing empire willing to bat an eye in their feeble direction, and hopefully they could keep it that way.

There was chatter, so many inquisitive voices and wide-eyed stares, as they were guided firmly into the building and through the lavish foyer decorated with beautiful paintings of luxurious Sledhob and his surprisingly plain wife who's name Purple couldn't seem to remember. The whole place reeked of wealth and oozed a sense of greedy haughtiness that made him almost sick to his stomach as they made their way over immaculate, white marble flooring and up well chiseled stairs to the main conference room. He and Red shared a teasing eye roll when they realized Sledhob had chosen the room farthest from the main entrance, forcing them to take their sweet time getting there and hoping they would admire his riches and the exquisite pottery on display at every corner. What a prick. Purple was thoroughly unimpressed by the shallow maids and officers nodding with overly theatrical respect in his direction, a rehearsed formality he knew Sledhob had proposed to them to try and butter them up for their talk. Little did he know, Purple was the king of smoothing people over, glancing about leisurely to see if there was anything he could use as political ammunition in the unpredictability of their nearing conference. He yawned, catching sight of Sledhob's two young sons playing up the corridor and laughing boisterously for all to hear as they jumped up and tore off in the other direction in a fit of jovial screeching. Purple wanted to laugh when Red shuddered involuntarily in disgust, knowing all too well his fear and discomfort with children. Hopefully, they would keep their distance and leave the adults to their work.

Finally, after what seemed like days of winding through halls and rounding cornders, the group was respectfully nodded through a high, silver archway and into an extensive, mind-blowing library. A huge fireplace crackled in the center despite the blistering heat of the sweltering summer outside and dusty books lined high shelves as far as the eye could see. Red nearly buckled at the sight, eyes wide and mouth watering to renew his now diminutive book collection with the ancient volumes he was itching to get his fingers on. The guards retreated with a final curt nod and slowly cranked shut a stunning, lapis encrusted door, locking it behind them and standing watch for the unnerving talk that was about to take place.

"Ah, welcome my old friends!" A deep, precocious tone rang out excitedly through the unbearably warm room. "It has been too long, has it not?"

Purple's gaze snapped up, immediately locking eyes with a tall, familiar face he had come to know so well. Prime Minister Sledhob beamed back at him, arms wide and mandibles clicking in delight as he ran his piercing cherry eye over Purple's oil stained jacket. He had gone all out to try and intimidate the IRM into compliance, dressed in a full suit of scaly blue armor and a ceremonial headdress with a well-preened tassel, as if he was ready to rush into battle at the drop of a pin. Purple swallowed, flickering his attention to Sledhob's right as he chuckled, catching sight of a stocky, robust woman in a long, fluttering robe and an impressive bar of service medals clasped over her shoulder. Uh oh…no one said _she_ would be attending.

Purple held his breath and winced when the woman threw her long feelers on her hips and stalked forward, setting her irate sights on Red who still seemed completely entranced by the beauty of the royal library swallowing him whole.

"_You_!" She screamed out menacingly, flying forward before Red could think and landing a powerful smack to his cheek. "That's for killing my father, you disgusting bastard! I should have your head on a stick!"

"Ow! Hey!" Red threw his hands up in defense as Nulol's daughter seethed brutally beneath him, glancing hastily to the side for Purple's help but knowing he had to take her harsh words and strident feelers for the collective good.

Purple mouthed his apology and clenched his teeth, bracing for another audible hit.

Sledhob merely laughed, amused with a ghastly cruelty at the sight of Red so unable to retaliate. "Utna, darling, please refrain from violence. This is a peaceful talk and there will be time to push him around later." He chuckled warmly, forcing a deep-seated anger to boil up in the pit of Purple's stomach.

Utna didn't listen, reaching up and landing another hard strike across Red's other cheek and earning a pained yelp. "And _that's_ for Boodie Nen all those cycles ago!" She growled unabashedly.

Purple cocked his head in mounting confusion when Red squeezed his eyes shut with a sudden chuckle of his own, readjusting his stinging jaw and taking a step back when Utna shoved a hard feeler up in his face. "Ok, ok. I probably deserved that one."

"You deserve more than a slap in the face, Red!" The stout officer hissed, refusing to blink and dropping her voice to a low, agitated whisper so Sledhob couldn't hear what she had to say next. "Do you know how embarrassing that was for my image? I had to take three tests and explain to my terrified father why some Irken Elite had…! Never mind." She took a deep breath. "You had better be thankful they all came back negative!"

Red shrugged flippantly, turning his wavering attention away when Utna rolled her giant eye. "Come on, there's no way that could ever happen. Besides, it's not like I forced you to do anything." He sneered with a disobedient smirk. "Get over it already. You have a husband now, so go order him around."

Utna threw her arms in the air with a shriek of annoyance. "Unbelievable! You Irkens are all the same!" She spun on her heel and stomped back to her amused leader, throwing herself down on the long, creamy sofa and crossing her legs heatedly.

Sledhob grinned, looking from his blistering Minister of Defense to Red's glower and back again before bringing his appendages together and rubbing them in excited anticipation. "What a welcome! Please," He brushed his coattails back with a flourish before sitting and motioning for his raunchy guests to do the same. "Make yourselves at home and let us talk about this agreement."

Purple fell in close to Red as they took a few slow, tentative steps forward. "What did you do to her?" He mumbled under his breath and noticed his partner visibly stiffen.

"We sorta…had a fling for a few days after I rescued her on Boodie Nen." He hissed back, heavy shame creeping in and settling in the pit of his spooch when Purple shot him a look of disgusted disappointment. "Her kind can get pregnant and she freaked out, so I hightailed it."

Purple nearly choked, giving a thick cough to mask his surprise and flashing Sledhob a cheesy grin. "Oh my fucking Irk, Red. Is there anything in this universe you _haven't_ banged?" He grumbled hotly through his teeth, flipping up his collar so Utna wouldn't see the bruises dotting his skin. "Ugh, she's not even cute."

Red tried not to let his humiliation get the best of him, lowering himself down next to his partner when they finally sat, watching as Lard Nar struggled to hoist himself up into his spot. "Give me a break, I was weird back then."

Purple shuddered when Utna's overbearing gaze swept over him, looking him head to toe and curling her lip in disgust when she caught sight of the marks he had desperately tried to cover, glancing back to Red before shaking her head in repulsed disappointment when she realized what they were. Purple returned her glare with a sarcastic, overly sweet smile, wishing he could punch her right in her sickening eye and trying to push away the image of his idiot boyfriend on top of her creepy alien body. Yuck.

"Now," Sledhob began, resting his feelers delicately on his knee, "I would like to begin by expressing my displeasure at the assassination of my finest general, Hoc Nulol." His voice took on a graver tone, slipping and sliding between reverence and derision. "Commander Purple, we talked briefly over transmission about potential repayment for his life?"

Purple swallowed, getting his head back into the game with a curt nod. "Yes. In exchange for my colleague's amnesty, I am prepared to relinquish Irken territory on the planet Vort and remove all Irken military personal from the surface and the immediate atmosphere, giving you full authority over the planet for research purposes." He explained respectfully, watching as Sledhob nodded along to his proposal.

"And is your _colleague_," he ran the word over his tongue mockingly, reminding the group that he knew everything about their criminal relationship, "in agreement with these terms?"

Red took a deep breath and nodded in accord, leaning forward slightly in his seat and trying to appear as compliant as possible for the sake of their cause. "Yes. I am deeply sorry for the death of Hoc Nulol," he lied effortlessly, "and I hope that our gift can set things right between our people."

The Prime Minister furrowed his brow, thinking a moment. "Ah, yes. But this gift of yours isn't truly yours to give, now is it?" He mused, watching when Purple hardened and shrunk back into himself. "Vort is still property of the Irken Empire, of which you have been exiled as war criminals and social pariahs. How can you promise me reparations when you no longer have any political claim at your disposal?"

Purple wavered, trying to come up with a reasonable explanation to reel their steadily declining chances of help back in, glancing down at the floor and blinking in surprise when Lard Nar cleared his throat and joined in with a power no one had been expecting.

"With all do respect, Prime Minister," he began, mulling over his words carefully, "but it is not the fault of Commanders Red and Purple but the corruption of the Control Brains that forced them out of their Empire."

Sledhob's mandibles clicked, faltering attention renewed with surprising vigor when he narrowed his eye and urged Lard Nar to continue.

"The Irken Resistance Movement is working to undermine the grip the Control Brains have over our galaxy and remove them from power completely. This would be a great advantage to you and your people and remove the immediate threats of war and slavery their middleman, Pem Goor, is proposing upon your planet and upon Vort." He explained professionally. "If you aid the IRM in our attack against the Control Brains and provide our faction with food, shelter, weapons, ships, and adequate training, then I can personally assure you that Vort will be given over to Inquisitorian control."

Purple slowly turned back to Red with a dumbfounded blink, the two sharing a slack jawed disbelief at the intense determination pouring out of the little thing that had caused their previous administration so much grief in the past. Who knew Lard Nar could be so assertive?

Lard Nar turned to Utna, who's fury had begun to fade, replaced by a bittersweet longing to see her deceased father once more. "Please, Madam, I am very sorry for your loss, but you must realize that your father was going to cause the death of thousands at the hands of a Vortian terrorist." He clarified delicately, trying to remain as sensitive as he could to her plights. "My ally did what he thought was best for his partner and his people and I know you would have done the same if your husband was put in danger."

Utna's steely gaze softened as she teared up out of nowhere, placing a soft touch over her mouth and trying to hold it together in front of her leader to little success. "My father was a good man. He-" She choked, trying to argue when Lard Nar jumped up and placed a well-timed, sympathetic hand over her knee when she broke down in a fit of potent, body shaking sobs.

The room hushed for a long while as Utna cried softly and Lard Nar shushed her, using his cute diminutive stature and slide of tongue to capture their target with merciless efficiency and play on her emotions. He glanced over at Purple, giving him a tiny nod and urging him to continue on and seal the deal. They had them right where they wanted them.

"Please, Sledhob," Purple piped back up informally, playing the field and taking the glorious opportunity Lard Nar's genius had gifted them. "The Control Brains have plotted the assassination of my Co-Tallest for cycles and are in league with a Vortian terrorist named Pem Goor who wants both of our races gone. They have taken my memories, taken my people, and they'll take yours too unless you help us bring them down. Help us free our star system from the monsters my ancestors created. Let the IRM train with your fleet."

Sledhob's smile faded to a profound grimace, dragging his sagging skin down with it and making him appear much older than he was. He leaned back unhurriedly, breaking eye contact and removing his stately headdress before placing it cautiously on the cushion next to him and staring, unblinking, into the fire. Purple wanted to drag his answer out of him by force, to make him see the dire importance of everything they were potentially facing and how close to mutual destruction they really were, knowing that if Sledhob didn't take them up on their offer, Pem would win. He would win and take everything he wanted with his appalling, filthy claws and contort the galaxy into a mangled heap of political and social upheaval that would destroy them all. Even Lard Nar, a Vortian rebel, thought it was crazy, realizing with a heavy heart that Inquisitoria's influence was the only thing keeping his planet alive and in orbit. Without them, they would wither away to nothing and only be a memory, a phantom of what once was that would never be again. Why couldn't Pem see that? Was he so stuck in his fanatical need to dominate and beat the Irken race down that he was willing to sacrifice his own for that chance? Or was he just insane? The Control Brains had seen something in him that they thought was worthy and useful, but all Purple saw was a delusional mess of a madman looking for his next victim.

Finally, Sledhob cleared his throat, speaking in a gruff voice that would decide the fate of everything they all knew and loved. "Commander Purple, I accept your offer of the planet Vort and pardon Commander Red from his crimes against my people."

It took every ounce of self-control Purple had not to jump up and throw his arms around the narcissistic Prime Minister and yell and scream until no more sound would come. Instead he opted for a wide, unruly grin that had Sledhob watching him closely, searching his ecstatic features with renewed suspicion but feeling the beginning fringes of something else…relief. They had a shot to end this. He turned to Red, holding him under a powerful, domineering stare and expecting him to back down, a tiny smirk forming when Red refused and instead held his ground, challenging him in the way he had always secretly revered.

"You will be placed under the watchful eye of Defense Minister Utna and her fleet." He ordered, satisfied when Red turned sour where he sat. "That is the least you can do for murdering her father and my favorite general. You will be allowed shelter, food, ships, weapons, and are permitted to run training drills for your rebellion at our base here in the capitol. In a week you can expect to be given Inquisitorian identification papers and temporary citizenship until you are able to return to your home planet." He paused, his tiny side smile blooming into a full-blown grin at the idea of having authority over two former Tallest and more than ready to use that influence to his advantage.

Red scoffed at the idea and Purple reached out, snatching him by the hand and squeezing hard, trying to keep him from speaking up. Fortunately, he got the point, ripping away and crossing his arms over his chest with nothing more than a hot grumble.

"Fine, but under one condition."

"Yes?"

"I want access to your library."

Sledhob blinked in surprise. "I never knew you were a man of literature." He half mocked, watching as Red rolled his eyes in a mixture of displeasure and embarrassment. "I think we have ourselves a deal, gentlemen. Welcome to the Inquisitorian Armada."

* * *

**Six grueling months later;**

_Think._

Purple held his breath and readjusted the long scope of his rifle, sinking ever-so-slowly into the fluttering foliage and propping the stock hard against his shoulder. His finger crept up, flicking off the safety as he squinted through the glowing crosshairs. 200 meters. Slight draft from the east. There would be friction. He adjusted his aim slightly to the left and licked his lips, refusing to blink as the blood-warming thrill of obliterating his target snuck in at his peripheries and made his pulse pound.

_Breathe_.

It's a part of you. Every screw, every hum of searing plasma is an extension of the biological body, your resolve manifested into reality, and your boiling rage over stealing what is rightfully yours. A reaper, a taker of souls and a mercenary at heart ready to lay waste to that target mocking him from afar; Purple was the venomous snake laying low in the grass. He took a smooth, deep inhale before exhaling completely, forcing away all his stress and viscous inhibitions and becoming one with the warm pull of the weapon resting heavily in his hands. All he had to do was breathe and squeeze the trigger. Breathe and take his victory.

At the last second, the clouds parted, revealing the bright glare of the Inquisitorian sun beating down on his now sunburnt skin and bouncing through his scope to blind him. He squeezed on impulse, flattening his antennae at the familiar strident explosion and the harsh recoil against his perpetually bruised bone, blinking in the glow and coughing at the electric smell of blistering plasma careening down the range just inches off his target. He missed…again.

Purple slumped forward against his rifle in defeat, immediately shooting back up at the piercing sound of someone blowing a harsh whistle behind him. He scrambled to his feet and flew to hasty attention, knowing all too well what it meant and instantaneously frowning at what he knew was waiting on his battered horizons. Red shook his head in dissatisfaction and stalked around to look him in the eye, looking him leisurely head to toe and narrowing his eyes with the soft tut of his tongue.

"Not good enough!" He ordered vehemently, poking his tongue into the empty socket between his teeth as he stared his lover down. "Get your weapon above your head and give me fifteen laps."

Purple groaned noisily, slouching a bit and yelping when Red smacked him hard against the spine, forcing him to straighten back to attention. "Red, the sun blinded me, and you know it!" He protested hotly. "What am I supposed to do? Block out the damn sun?"

"That's not an excuse, Pur." Red held his gaze firm and intimidating, standing by his words and refusing to let up the horrifically dominating air pouring off of him. "The light won't move for you here and it definitely won't move for you out there on the battlefield. Now quit complaining and get out there with the others before I kick your ass!"

Purple moaned again and trudged reluctantly down the hill as more booming plasma shots rang out around him, smashing into targets and sending pieces of sharp porcelain in every direction. When he finally reached the track he shot a sarcastic look back up the embankment to where his powerful partner stood, arms crossed and unrelenting. Purple looked over the deep blue of his canvas instructor's jacket, blowing him a kiss and playfully flipping him off with a defiant grin before Red returned it with an audible chuckle, turning back to the dozens of other young trainees fumbling to reload clips and keep their tiny hands steady, barking out order after order and terrifying them into submission.

Purple gripped his rifle with an unwavering smile, throwing his arms over his head as he took off in a light jog after the crowd of other, shorter Irkens and wiry Inquisitorians panting and near collapse in the intense heat. Red was the absolute worst, best instructor they could have hoped for in these trying, unstable months. He was ruthless, unsympathetic, and downright mean at times, giving Purple no special privilege or leeway in his protective onslaught of orders and mandates, working everyone in his battalion into the ground until they buckled from overexertion. At night they would venture back to their personal room in Sledhob's mansion and Red's overbearing, drill sergeant-like demeanor would immediately fade to be replaced by his usual snarky self. He would soothe Purple with tender kisses over his aching muscles and blistered hands, reminding him over and over again on a never-ending loop that he did everything because he cared and couldn't stand the thought of his lover on the surface of Judgementia without being able to take care of himself. He was terrified that Purple wouldn't be ready, terrified he would be claimed by the vicious throng of instinctively submitting Irkens they had once called their subjects. He wanted to shape his partner into a survivor, a soldier capable of holding his own and coming home to him after this dreaded war was over. He would tell him every night before they would go to sleep, repeating the same useless phrase until Purple could practically feel when it was coming on, a comforting anchor in the depressing uncertainty flooding around them.

_Promise you'll come home to me._

Purple's answer was always the same. He would curl up alongside his lover's strong chest and smile against his warm skin, soothing his worries until he would do it all over again the next night.

_I promise._

They would wake up around the same time, sometimes giggling over coffee and sometimes indulging in the incredible satisfaction of slow, lazy morning sex before haphazardly throwing something on and slogging out to the base to start the whole painful process again. It was as close to domestic bliss they had ever come, taking weekends off and exploring the massive capitol, trying weird new restaurants and walking hand in hand down the marble sidewalks of a culture so different than their own, feeling completely safe and surprisingly ordinary when no one would question their relationship or stare when they would sneak a light kiss here and there. It was normal here, a welcome and charming reprieve from the enraged torment they had faced on Irk from those who simply didn't understand what it meant to love. Purple had decided to model their new social rules off of what he saw on Inquisitoria, vowing to give their citizens not only the right to choose a partner and marry freely, but the right to look the way they wanted outside of restriction, to try and express themselves through fashion and makeup in ways they weren't typically allowed and enrich their cities with amazing individuality. Red had agreed, running over the absolute dream their new society would be…hopefully they would get there someday.

Red wanted the best for them all and Purple knew that, appreciated it at times and loathed it at others, knowing deep down that Red only wanted him to be prepared for the harsh reality of war and the damaging, heartless antagonism and death that was to come. It was sort of ironic; he had spent his whole long life dodging combat for it to be the one thing he had to do to preserve his dwindling legacy and nationality. They both knew what the Armada was capable of; they were the cream of the Irken crop, the best of the best and the most brutal officers with hundreds of combined cycles of combat experience under their collective belts. They would wade through the Inquisitorian Armada with the intent to maim and annihilate through sweltering cannon fire, bringing on as much devastation as they could under the ferocious fist of Fleet Commander Pem.

Pem.

According to the transmissions Kez had hacked from the surface of Devastis, Pem had passed his Elite training in a little under three months, proving to be more of a formidable enemy than anyone had originally anticipated. He had received commendations for his extraordinary ability to guide his personal Ripper through a variety of different minefields and horrific battle simulations, passing with flying colors and walking away as the coldblooded new commander of his own fleet. As soon as he got his claws in the heavy weaponry of the Armada, he launched a ferocious counterattack against an outnumbered Inquisitorian patrol skirting off of Moo-Ping 10 as they were moving prisoners to their holding cells, completely eliminating seven civilian ships and leaving behind no survivors. Utna had called her men to action, attempting to chase down the Armada to little success, losing their targets when Pem expertly punched in unknown warp codes and transported them to Irk knows where in the star system. Yeah…that was a bad day, and the first of many to come. Curse the beauty and astounding efficiency of Irken engineering; it had served Red and Purple well when it was at their disposal, but now everyone wished it would all spontaneously combust.

Purple struggled to keep his breathing level against the burn in his now sleek, strong arms and the heavy rifle above his head, gritting his teeth as he pushed himself to keep on before passing Lard Nar stumbling thoughtlessly through the scorching summer. If he stopped, his partner would only tack on more and more laps to the end of his grueling original sentence. If only he wasn't such a terrible shot, maybe he wouldn't have to end up here every other day when they ran through their weapons drills. He had improved a bit over the months, but still wavered and hesitated from time to time, something Red was desperately trying to beat out of him before he was shipped off to Irk to lead his own division against the Control Brains. Everyone had their orders and had run over the battle plans hundreds of times now in Sledhob's war room; they were just biding time and waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike back with full force at Judgementia and catch the Armada off guard.

Red would lead the IRM from the skyline as a Fleet Commander in the Viral Tank, taking on the Armada directly and keeping them from laying waste to the surface, taking the lives of millions of Irkens in his wake. He would have access to a Shuuver should he need more speed and Teem would be his reliable second in command, taking control should Red need to break away and clear a path to the Spike of Judgement for Purple and his heavily armored ground regiment. Kez would be in charge of maintaining clear, open communications between them all and the Inquisitorian Armada, properly preserving transmission stations in the event that Utna needed to reach them. The fleet itself would be armed to the teeth with standard issue Inquisitorian equipment; virtual pilot's visors, plasma pistols and gauntlets, and boot knives sharp enough to slice through steel. Altogether, they would have 40 Inquisitorian Stingers, 17 Spittle Runners, and two Shuuver, a tiny speck compared to the 395 strong brute of a fleet Pem would be commanding.

Purple's M.O. was different. He wouldn't need a ship and had been given command of a small team of 60 Irken and Inquisitorian troops, including four experienced snipers and one unstable demolitions expert to be dropped off by Utna's Stinger in the thick of the planet's swamped surface. They would make their way to the Spike of Judgement and blow the safety door, permeating the main hall and securing it in the name of the IRM before fighting their way to the stage. Every hand and sharp PAK extension would be on their trail, and they would have to be extremely careful the closer they got to the brains; it would be a proverbial madhouse, every enemy clamoring to get to them and tear them to shreds. Then, Purple and a few other mechanics would infiltrate the formidable interface of the main Control Brain and shut it down for good, relinquishing dominion of Irk back to him and Red for good. It was going to be incredibly treacherous and volatile, but Purple had agreed with little hesitation, knowing his skills working on battleships in the past would be of dire importance to their fight against the robotic menace.

Finally, there was Lard Nar. He had found his personal power and volunteered resolutely in training to go after Pem directly in his Shuuver, claiming it was extremely personal and wanting to be the one to force the damming blow to his thrusters and send him careening across the sky to his fiery death. He would force Pem to break off and cause chaos within the Irken fleet, giving Red and Utna an opportunity to pick off ships one by one as they attempted to frantically secure their commander. If all went according to plan, the Control Brains would be dismantled and Pem would be blown to pieces, allowing for the Irken collective to awaken to the torture they had been subjected to and paving the way for the Tallest to take back political control of their planet and promote a new era of peace and true Irken dominance. It sounded simple enough, at least, but they still had to prepare, still had to push themselves to the brink in the event that everything went south and literally blew up in their faces. Their opportunity could present itself any minute of any day and they needed to be completely ready to face the chilly embrace of death.

And so, they trained….and trained….and trained.

When Purple had finally finished his brutal laps with the others and was ready to fall face first into the dirt and pass out in a pool of his own sweat, Red called them into a tight group huddle, breaking them off into two person teams to spar. They were each given a partner of equal height, as well as they could manage, and Red wanted Purple and his troop to have more practice for the up close and personal warfare they would be plunged into. Purple had been ferociously reluctant at first, openly defying his orders and laying insolently on the ground to stare up at his lover as he complained tiresomely for all to hear, making sure to pitch his voice up an octave to really grind against Red's antennae.

"Seriously, Purple? It was just laps." Red half laughed, half mocked, nudging his griping partner lightly in the arm with the steel toe of his boot and shaking his head in amusement when he gave another high-pitched, droning wail. "It's either you get up and fight me, or you have to run ten more laps."

"I don't wanna!" Purple whined pathetically, trying to bat Red away with feeble arms and an impish pout that did little to help his pitiful case. "We've been doing this for weeks! I'm tired and I wanna stop!"

"You don't have time to be tired, and I don't care what you want right now." Red chuckled, thoroughly enjoying his ruthless handiwork. "If you don't get up, I'll have to literally kick you."

"I swear to Irk, Red, if you even try it-" Purple growled threateningly, cut off by the deep twinkle of infuriating delight in Red's profound gaze. The sick bastard was enjoying his plight. "Stop it! Don't look at me like that!"

Red bit his lip and held back another haughty laugh, throwing his hands on his hips and puffing out his chest as he hovered over his weak-willed partner. "Like _what_?" He taunted with false innocence, knowing he could get to Purple's furious center if he pushed his buttons just right. "Like you're too afraid I'll hurt you again?"

Purple forced himself up with a concerted snarl, becoming blind to his mind-numbing aggravations before crying out and throwing a hard, uncoordinated punch in Red's direction, eyes widening in terror when his partner grabbed him under the shoulder and suddenly swept him off his feet, forcing back down against the ground on his stomach and ruthlessly pinning him into the soil. Purple fought and thrashed, trying to throw him off with a shout of livid frustration but finding himself completely at Red's sadistic mercy when he gave a sharp twist to his elbow, forcing a pained hiss to flood from between his teeth as he officially tapped out.

"Alright, alright! You made your point already!" He coughed into the foliage below him when Red let up, cheeks stinging with hotblooded, heavy embarrassment as his teammates snickered and talked amongst each other. He reached up and wiped the dirt from his cheek with his palm before cleaning his hand on his shorts, refusing to meet Red's victorious eye contact as he sulked.

Red softened up a bit, rolling his shoulders and lowering himself slightly to brace for impact as Purple stared at the ground. "Try again. You've got it this time." He reassured lovingly, hoping to give his irritated boyfriend the confidence boost he desperately needed.

"Red, you're better than I am. All you're gonna do is flip me again." Purple mumbled disheartened by his own lack of skill and silently kicking himself for not going to Devastis when he was younger to train. Maybe then he wouldn't be so petrified to face the Armada and the ferocious Irken military he had helped build. If only they had done a worse job. "I'm tired and my arms hurt and I wanna go back to the room."

Red gave a heavy exhale, throwing down his defense and taking a step forward. He nodded for Purple to follow him to the extensive sweep of bleachers, glancing back every once in a while to make sure his partner was trudging along behind him. As soon as they were out of the immediate sight of the others, Red leaned in and stole a comforting, lingering kiss to his partner's lips, attempting to breathe away some of the weighty stress settling in his chest and dragging him through the mud. Purple didn't fight but didn't seem interested in the slightest, pulling away after a few moments and plopping down on one of the cool seats to watch the others. Even little Lard Nar was terrifyingly formidable, dodging each of his partner's blows with ease and consistently decking him with tiny giggles Purple couldn't hear from afar. If someone nearly a fourth of his height had the ability to hold his own, what did that say about his own pathetic, nonexistent dexterity? How could he be a leader and not be able to defend the very planet he was striving to take back?

"We can switch if you'd like." Red suggested softly, lowering himself down next to his lover and placing a gentle hand on his knee as he thought. "I can go down to the surface."

Purple glanced to the side then shook his head in defeat, averting his gaze back to his lap and placing a hand over Red's. "No, you're a better pilot. Plus, you wouldn't know the first thing about how to take the Brains offline."

Red shrugged with a tiny smile, trying to break up the dense tension. "How hard could it be? All I have to do is blow 'em up." He chuckled but quickly stopped when Purple moved his hand away and wrung his fingers nervously.

"Somehow I don't think that's gonna work." Purple mumbled, looking back up to his Vortian colleague as he clocked his faux assailant in the throat and immediately panicked when he went down, scrambling to help him up and frantically fussing over him as he gave a few heavy coughs. "Look at everyone."

"What about them?"

"They're…they're good."

"Well, yeah. _I_ trained them, of course they're good."

"But I'm not."

Red blinked and cocked his head, scrunching up his face at the bizarre comment. "What are you talking about? You're the best damn mechanic we have on the team, Pur." He soothed, voice dripping with genuine sincerity. "You're just as important as anyone here and we can't finish this without you."

Purple wasn't buying it, slinging his feet up onto the bleachers and reclining against Red's lap with an overexaggerated huff of disdain. "Yeah but that's _all_ I can do. I'm a shit shot, I can't dodge anything, and I have the stamina of a smeet." He grumbled, feeling his melancholy turn to annoyance. "What am I really good for, Red?"

Red thought a moment, reaching down and absentmindedly stroking his partner's antennae. He would be lying if he said he wasn't apprehensive over Purple going to the surface and taking on the brunt of the Irken regime, but he would be there with 60 other capable men and women who would lay down their lives to save his. Red had overheard them in the mess hall talking about his lover's steely determination and stole glimpses of the shimmering excitement in their eyes when he addressed them formally. Purple gave them a boundless sense of pride and honor, a sense of belonging and a chance to be themselves outside of the disgusting norm their society had forced upon them. He was a rebel king, a powerful warlord willing to dismantle hundreds of cycles of cynical, dictatorial rule all in the name of the collective good and his own need to live without restriction. He would go down in history as the first Tallest to question the Control Brains and the first to start a merciless coup against their diabolical system, a true hero that anyone would be crazy not to admire. Red owed his life to Purple, many times over, and Irk owed him its very existence.

"Pur, you-" Red began, shooting up in alarm when an energized screech resounded across the field, stopping their troops and hushing everyone to a dull whisper as they looked about frantically for the source.

Purple pushed himself up with a frown and squinted, forgetting his awful anxieties and catching sight of a tiny ball of fury sprinting as fast as her little legs would take her, waving a reader wildly in the air as she grinned.

"I heard it! They're heading to Judgementia! T-They're heading to Judgementia!" Kez screamed out with a thrilled squeak of a laugh, the entire field lighting up and roaring with gasps of nervous excitement and adrenaline-fueled shouts.

Purple's dull eyes lit up as he scrambled to his feet, bounding down the bleachers and hopping to the ground, meeting Kez halfway with Red hot on his heels. The rest of the battalion crowded around the petite Irken as she doubled over and fought to catch her ragged breath, peeking over shoulders and trying to steal a look at the momentous news. Was it true? Was Pem really on the way to their target?

"Speak up, soldier." Red ordered, throwing on his air of formality when Kez gave a thick cough. "What _exactly_ did you hear?"

Kez's wide eyes shot up to her leaders with a toothy grin, bouncing between them as if she might pop from bloodthirsty anticipation alone. "I was sweeping channels like usual and I locked on to the ping coming from the tracking system in Pem's ship!" She squealed in cruel pleasure before adjusting her headset. "I performed a cold trace with the team and they're heading to Judgementia right now! We have them on the radar!"

The crowd went wild. Goggles and gloves were thrown high into the air, boots danced around one another and kicked up heavy clouds of dust, arms slung around one another as excited hoots and boisterous laughs rang stridently into the sky. Lard Nar wiggled and dodged his way to the front, sharp teeth gleaming in the light and looking up expectantly to his friends, waiting with bated breath for their next orders.

Purple blinked and turned to Red, drowning out the noise of the crowd and locking on to his sharp profile, tracing his eyes over that familiar face he knew so well. He was excited, teeming with an inexplicable need to rip open this war after waiting so long and finally setting their foolproof plan into motion. Every fist Red threw in the air, every wild shout, every fanatical scent pouring off of him and only exciting the ravenous crowd further was beautiful. Even now, in the thick of it all, Purple still thought he was beautiful. That exquisite face would soon be slumped over the control panel of a heavily armored Viral Tank, barking strident orders as he raked through the Armada they had worked so hard to build over their time in power. He would turn to something violent, something inirken and Purple would be forced to drop in the thick of the war and lead his team to victory under the watchful gaze of that safe, crimson state. Red would keep him safe. He would always keep him safe. Purple felt his breath hitch and everything move in odd, disorienting slow motion when Red squeezed his eyes shut and grinned, turning in his direction and warming him from head to toe with an old feeling that made him swoon. Purple hadn't felt this way since they had met, a peculiar feeling overtaking him as if he were seeing Red for the first time with fresh, innocent eyes. His pulse skipped a bit when his partner skipped forward, wrapping his arms around his shoulders in enthusiastic elation over the incredible news Kez had thrown at them, feeling Red laugh against his skin. Purple sighed against him with a soft smile, the warmth of his body heat unbearable in the summer sun but he didn't care. This is why he would live. This is why he would go to the surface and bring about the first wave of justice for his people. There were no more qualms, no more doubts or anxieties fluttering through his mind, only the weightlessness of infinite understanding that washed over his psyche and instilled a determination in him that could move mountains and boil away seas. They were finally going to war. They would ship out immediately and bring on the collective downfall of the monsters that planned to enslave them all and the pathetic plans of the Vortian madman tearing their lives apart. Strangely, Purple felt a sense of peace as Red slung a hand around his waist and threw his hand in the air, pumping up the crowd with a vehement speech that Purple couldn't make out against the roar of his own pulse in his antennae. It was actually happening, and all Purple could do was smile, finally understanding what he needed most in this life and tightening his grip around Red's hand against his ribs. This was happiness. This was freedom. There was no way Purple was ever going to give that up again.

They _would_ go to war.

They _would_ reclaim Irk.

And…Purple _would_ marry Red.

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Next update_** Monday 10.21.2019 at 10:00 pm CDT!**_ I extended this by one day so I have enough time to plan and write out the first part of the massive war we're gonna be getting into! I'm really excited, and thank you guys so much for tuning in! Love you!


	19. Matchmaker

Hello, Charlotte here! We're officially going into the thick of it and resolving some emotional tension that's been hovering around between some of our babies here! Hope you have fun and thank you so much for tuning in! I love you all!

_**Also;**_ thanks for your patience! I'm a full-time student beginning work on a master's degree, full-time worker, and full-time single mom. Yeah…I'm a mom. It's difficult when your four year old is hanging all over you while you're trying to write about gay aliens and shielding little eyes from words you don't want them to learn yet! (man I just realized how irresponsible I really am…ugh).

Also also; I am posting this today at 8 because I have homework due at 11:59 pm tonight! So, if you see it early, that's why. :)

**Chapter rated M for obvious allusions to PTSD and mental illness, brief heavy language, and general adult themes.**

* * *

"Pur?"

Purple blinked, squinting against the glare of the hot sun as he stood, dumbfounded by the now thinning crowd making their way back to their rooms to sling on tough armor and run final checks on weapons and communications systems before they were officially guided to their final battle stations. How much time had passed? How long had he been standing here?

"Pur?"

An urgent voice called again followed by impatient fingers snapping inches from his face, forcing him to gasp and plummet back down into the daunting present with a thick swallow. He glanced back up and tried to force down his embarrassment for being so far gone for so long, a prisoner to his fast-paced thoughts, immediately catching Red's irritated gaze as he leaned forward and looked over his partner with growing skepticism.

"Hey, I've been talking to you for a while now." Red began slowly, frowning when Purple seemed taken aback by his sudden return from the clouds. "Are you alright? You look…weird. Well, weirder than normal."

Purple took a deep breath, feeling a hot color rush to his cheeks when Red reached out and rubbed at his arms, trying to calm his anxieties through his gentle but firm touch. He'd become incredible at reading Purple's thoughts over the past few months, their connection running deeper than the pulse pounding through their bodies as if they were hooked up to the same nervous system. Right now, that was the last thing Purple wanted, trying to bite back his weighty embarrassment and keep his racing reflections a secret from his clueless lover. It was bizarre and incredibly uncomfortable; the more Red ran his fingers across his skin, the more Purple could almost see visions of them, winning this awful massacre of a war and walking away hand in hand to their vivid, beautiful future together as they left Judgementia for good and reclaimed everything they had lost. But, that beauty soon faded when he saw other things too. He saw a slew of appalling, disturbing memories creeping up from deep in his PAK, images of Red bloodied and unconscious as he heaved him from the wreckage of that disgusting Meekrobian ship, flashes of Urb Yen forcing his tooth from his mouth as she cackled, feeling her windpipe crush underneath his hands as he wrathfully strangled her against the grimy floor of the Naphrus research station. He saw the bodies crushed to nothing by the gravity of the Florpus and the charred flesh of Pem's ruthless, gory explosions, crippling the one ship he called home and forcing him to fight for his life against raging fires threatening to suffocate him on painful, stinging ash. Those memories never left him…in fact they still haunted him and brought on incurable bouts of insomnia he could never seem to surmount. Red had given him pointers on how to adjust the sleep systems deep in his PAK, and it had worked for a while, but Purple would still wake up to terrible, bloodcurdling choking in the back of his mind, flying up out of bed in a cold sweat. When it happened, Red would hold him, pull him back down and will his rapid pulse to calm with soft breathing and pointless kisses as he cried silently in his partner's arms. He'd become pathetic, a broken visage of an once innocent, overconfident Irken twisted and contorted to the horrors of killing that Red had tried so hard to keep him from during their long reign as Tallest. Purple understood now why Red had struggled with trust and rest for so many cycles; he was fighting his own mind-splitting demons the terrors of battle had forced upon his already shot psyche and numbed him to the world. Huh…Maybe Purple was numb now too.

"Come on, Pur." Red breathed, voice still tinged with concern, taking him by the hand and leading him across the wide expanse of field to the tiny speck of Sledhob's mansion resting on the never-ending horizon. "We have an hour and a half to get ready before we ship out. If we miss this chance, there's no telling when another one will come."

Oh shit. After six grueling months of struggling to fight back the inevitable, the realization of what they were working towards finally settled over Purple's body like a lead weight, singing him at the edges and causing him to involuntarily tighten his hold on Red's hand, forcing him to a stop as he winced in his iron grip.

"Ow, hey! Relax, would you?" Red grumbled, trying to yank away but blinking in mounting concern when Purple stared at the ground, unwavering and completely comatose to the throng of soldiers chatting vigorously around them.

He would have to kill again. He would have more terrible memories to fight against. Purple would have to take up his rifle and his boot knife and wade through thousands of Irken combatants and slit throats and aim for sensitive PAK systems as they stormed and clawed their way to get to him. He could almost see it, searing cherry-pink eyes stabbing through his spooch as PAK lasers singed and obliterated limbs and blinded sensitive vision. Claws would dig and rip at tissue and tendons and there would be no escape from the metallic, overpowering smell of oozing blood and agony. In training, he would aim at faceless targets. On Judgementia, he would aim at soft bodies with names, husbands, and wives. How could he take that away uniqueness and snuff out the very life force the universe had created…again? How could he play god?

Purple felt sick. He finally let go, turning away from Red as he willed his stomach to settle. "Go on with Kez and check the transmission she found." He swallowed, trying to keep his fear under wraps as Red watched him carefully. "I…I have to do something first. I'll meet you at the room in," he grappled with his shaky sense of time, "I-I dunno…Twenty minutes?"

Red immediately saw through his lie, unnerved by the waver in his tone. "Are you ok?" He asked softly, trying to reach out as Purple took a few shaky steps back. "Talk to me, Pur. If there's something on your mind, you can tell me."

Purple had to get away. He felt like the world was closing in on him, claustrophobia overcoming him and the fresh air of the Inquisitorian summer doing little to help. He tried to find an excuse, glancing around desperately for an out to breathe, catching sight of Lard Nar and blurting out a jumbled mess of precarious words on impulse.

"No, really! I-I need to talk to Lard Nar about something important!" Purple lied, hoping Red would go on without him and let him finally have a much-needed moment to himself. "It's about his orders. I just want to run through them with him again because he was confused about a few things."

Red still didn't seem convinced, peering around his twitchy partner to where Lard Nar chatted happily with another Vortian translator, Flich, who had joined the IRM a few months back after defecting from the Armada. He frowned, forcing Purple to hold his scrutinizing stare.

"Are you _sure_ there's nothing bothering you?"

Purple reached up and rubbed at the back of his neck, feeling himself begin to sweat as another wave of anxiety threatened to drop him. "Yeah. Everything's cool. Just go check the transmission, ok?" His words bordered on a desperate plea, practically begging Red to follow Kez to the war room.

Red sighed, bringing his fingers to his lips and whistling for Lard Nar. The little Vortian jumped in his boots, attention snapping up with a nod before he turned and said his flirtatious goodbyes with a kiss to the hand of a giggling Flich who waved him on with equal enthusiasm. He didn't waste time, bounding over as fast as his cat-like legs would take him, stopping with a respectful salute as Red looked him over.

"Commander Purple wants to talk to you about your orders, soldier." Red explained formally, glancing back to his partner with an apprehensive frown when he flinched. "Listen to what he has to say and," Red paused before reluctantly turning to follow after their communications officer, "watch him carefully."

Lard Nar cocked his head, looking up to where Purple stood deep in thought before understanding and giving Red a discreet thumbs up, waiting until he turned and officially made his way across the field before pulling Purple off to the side. He went to speak but was cut off when Purple took a deep, shaky inhale and forced himself to sit on the hard ground, willing the dizziness behind his lenses to stop but only throwing himself further into a fit of mounting vertigo.

"Sir?" Lard Nar asked delicately, scooting up next to him when Purple pulled his knees in to his chest. "Would you like to talk about my orders? Have they changed?"

Purple groaned and shook his head, burying his face into himself as he tried to hold it together. "I can't do this." He whimpered. "I-I can't do this."

Lard Nar blinked, knowing where this was going and glancing to the side as he tried to figure out how to respond. "Do what, Purple?" He dropped the formality, speaking to him as the friend he had grown to be during their time together. "I won't say anything, I promise."

Purple swallowed, choking on the lump forming in his throat and refusing to look up for fear of showing weakness. Lard Nar's voice was comforting and gentle, a pleasant, deeply concerned sound that fought back against Purple's mind-numbing terror.

"Talk to me."

Purple finally forced himself to look up, wiping his brow on the back of his hand in the beating sunlight. "I…I just can't do this." He repeated. "How are you so calm? We're getting ready to walk into a literal warzone and you're sitting here like it's no big deal?"

Lard Nar looked taken aback, thinking a moment at the legitimate question. "Well…I've done this before." He finally settled on, calmly explaining his coping process. "I still get scared, but war is just like going to morning tea for me. You never really get used to it, per say, but you do learn how to turn off."

"I don't know how to do that! How can I turn off if this is the first legitimate war I've ever fought?!" Purple snapped, fears escalating once more. "I've seen a lot of violence, yeah, but I've only killed one person and I can't even handle that! I-" He stopped himself short, feeling his frown fade when he realized something dire he'd overlooked. He had never told Lard Nar what he'd done. After their odd, but strangely right, friendship had bloomed, Purple had honestly forgotten how much Urb Yen had meant to him, focused on his own battles of pushing her to the side of his dark memories and not even considering that Lard Nar may want closure to her violent death. Oh, Irk, why did he have to open this can of worms now?

"Lard Nar, I have to tell you something."

Lard Nar was patient as usual, leaning forward a bit in growing anticipation. "Yes?"

Purple brought his hands together, wringing his fingers nervously as he mulled over how to finally admit the terrible thing he'd done in the past and let it go. "Um…uh….I killed someone you…eh…you knew." He stumbled gracelessly over his words as the sickening feeling deep inside him lurched, glancing up when Lard Nar furrowed his brow in a mixture of emotions Purple couldn't pin down.

"Who?" Lard Nar asked simply.

"Try to see my point here. She tortured Red. She was going to kill him in front of me if I didn't sign over Vort and we both know I couldn't do that and-" Lard Nar cut Purple's frantic rambling off with the slow raise of a gloved hand, a solemn understanding washing over him.

"You…_you_ killed Urb Yen."

It wasn't a question. It was a blank statement of fact that rocketed Purple back into the same feeling he felt when Red had rejected his affections all those months ago in the forest. It felt awful and dangerously nauseating; a sheer, unadulterated regret putting up a wall between them as Purple returned to his knees, burying his chin against the sharp dig of his bone as Lard Nar leisurely ran over his horrific confession. Finally, he took a deep, steady breath and spoke back up with the one question Purple feared the most.

"How did she die? Did she suffer?"

Why did he have to ask that? Purple squeezed his eyes shut, trying to feign sadistic images dancing in his ocular implants, brilliant flashes of deep violet bruises against a tiny, lithe neck burning holes in his mind as he tried to bring himself to answer.

"Um…I-I choked her." His voice was barely a whisper, straining against logic and common sense in favor of swelling, cold emotion. "I made it painful…I'm sorry."

To his surprise, Lard Nar piped back up immediately, almost as if he wasn't shaken by the news. "Don't be." His voice was full of impenetrable anguish and distress, but there was a resolute acceptance to his tone that immediately tore down the barrier Purple was sure he had forced between them. "She sealed her fate when she allied with Pem. It was her decision."

Purple couldn't believe what he was hearing, watching in stultified silence as Lard Nar nodded gently to himself in a forlorn fugue, flashing his friend a soft, bittersweet smile and biting back his own tears.

"You know, that took a lot of courage." Lard Nar whispered dejectedly, betraying the happy exterior he was attempting to maintain while scanning his leader's face with a pained exhale. "Thank you, Purple."

"Eh…you're welcome?" Purple still felt terrible, but at the admittance he felt strangely peaceful, finally earning the closure he needed so desperately. It was crazy he and Lard Nar used to fight so vehemently in the past; with Red as his partner, Lard Nar had become his best friend. Now Purple could hardly imagine his life without the little Vortian chain smoking his way through it.

Lard Nar wiped his eyes on the back of his glove and leaned back, staring up at the sapphire sky as Utna ran her final drills overhead with her fleet. "I'm going to tell you something, but you have to promise never to tell anyone else." He began, a heavyhearted serenity to his voice. He didn't wait for Purple to respond before continuing. "I loved her. She was beautiful, intelligent, and everything I ever wanted, but she never knew how I felt." He chuckled lightly to himself as memories of his girl brought on waves of sentimental nostalgia. "I kick myself sometimes for telling her to go to Irk. If I hadn't maybe she would have never relied on Pem to guide her. He turned her away from the compassionate Vortian I wanted to marry to a monster that couldn't be tamed."

Purple felt his confidence grow at the mention of the snake-like, appalling name that had burned everyone he knew. "You? Get married?" He half-joked with a nervous laugh. "I can't see you settling down."

Lard Nar returned his edgy smile with one of his own. "You never know. You'll feel it when you meet the right person. It just…it takes you to a better place away from everything you are." He explained, watching Purple's expressions carefully as Red had asked, noticing a spark of something he decided to elaborate upon. "War is terrible and you will never forget it, but love is something greater. I know how scared you are to do this, but we need you. Irk needs you, Vort needs you, Inquisitoria needs you, and I need you. You have to fight for us because there's no way we could ever win this war without your skills as a mechanic." He thought a long moment when Purple didn't speak back up, treading carefully over his next statement and hoping it sunk in and struck a chord with his friend. "I waited too long to ask Urb Yen to marry me and I missed my chance. You still have yours."

Purple felt a pang of discomfort ring through his chest, striking him directly in the PAK. "What do you mean?" He tried to smooth over the comment, swallowing his pride and feeling it replaced with intense mortification when Lard Nar kept on his case.

"I see how you look at him. We all do. He's more than a boyfriend to you, isn't he?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You know what I'm talking about."

"No, I don't."

Lard Nar sighed, growing slightly frustrated by Purple's continued denial and forcing himself to remain composed despite his wishes to jump up and leave him to wallow in his own self-pity and repudiation. "Look, you may think I'm stupid, but I see everything. We're going to war, Purple. Do you really want to leave for battle without talking to him about your future?" He urged, trying to push Purple past his threshold of panic and submit to the deeper feelings he was harboring for his partner. "Red could be gone like that." He snapped, earning an anxious wince from his friend. "Don't waste your opportunity like I did."

"Woah, woah, woah." Purple made a final attempt at looking innocent, trying to come up with a reasonable excuse on the fly with what he thought was a smooth response. "I'm not following. Red and I are _already_ together. What else do we have to talk about?"

Lard Nar stood with a mutter, dusting himself off before making sure he hadn't left anything behind. He turned to take off, making it a few steps before wavering on a sudden idea and turning back. "I've trained with him for six months now. That's a lot of time to get to know someone." He said quietly, trying to be sympathetic to Purple's secret wishes so no one else passing by would hear.

Purple narrowed his eyes, slowly growing irritated at Lard Nar's uncanny ability to see right through his transparent front. "Yeah, so?" He grumbled in annoyance.

"So, I don't think he would say _no_."

With that, Lard Nar flashed him a brief, compassionate smile to let him know he knew everything and took off after the others, trying to catch up as fast as his tiny legs would take him and leaving Purple behind in his bewildered cloud of overwhelming emotion and fluttering waves rocketing through his spooch. Damn Lard Nar for being so intuitive. Purple turned back to the horizon, feeling his apprehensions over going to war slowly turn to giddy nervousness for asking Red a single, life-changing question he'd had on his mind for a while now;

_Will you marry me?_

It crept in every time they ate together, every time Purple amorously watched Red get dressed in the morning from the warmth of their bed, every time he ruthlessly smacked one of their recruits upside the jaw for talking back. Purple had always wanted to marry Red from the moment they fought together back in the mechanic's bay the night they met, and the feeling only grew when they ascended to the role of Tallest together. In a way, their joint rule already felt like marriage; they ate the same things, read the same reports, scolded the same disobedient advisors, and slept in the same quarters. It was nice and, for a while at least, Purple was content to just watch Red sleep from afar through the dark. He was content to order him an extra soda just to watch his face light up or sit next to him while he silently read his tedious fiction books at night, always thinking in the back of his mind that they had something no one else could ever have. When he had finally admitted his feelings and they had become an official item, Purple was over the moon with the glorious feeling of acceptance following the hundred cycle storm of creeping through the shadows and sneaking touches here and there, swooning when he knew he could come back to their room every day and dance to terrible Inquisitorian music or take walks with Red to the library so he could drool over the ancient books he had come to adore. Once again, Purple had been content with the kissing and soft hand holding, with the warm hands curling around him in his sleep and the incredible intimacy of pleasure only Red could satisfy him with. But, now, the gnawing feeling had come back, opened Purple up like a wound and poured salt over his raw flesh until he could hardly hold his tongue anymore. He wanted more. He wanted Red to be his forever and no one else's. He wanted a picturesque ceremony packed to the brim with their closest friends dressed in gorgeous formal wear, where he would finally be scarred with whatever mark they would choose to signify their beautiful partnership. Was that selfish? It had been seven months since their relationship began…was all this too soon? Purple had mentioned the idea in passing a few times under the guise that it was all a joke, making Red believe he was completely turned off by the idea of marriage and fishing for any sign that he may someday take him seriously. His partner would never know it secretly bothered him when he would warmly laugh and brush it off.

_So, I don't think he would say no._

Purple forced himself to stand, reluctantly following behind the dwindling trail of others as he lost himself to the phrase Lard Nar had let slip, feeling it echo through his mind like a torturous song. What if he was right? What if Purple asked and Red threw his arms around him with an enthusiastic yes? What if he laughed and asked what had taken so long for him to finally pop the question? Purple felt his spooch twist in knots when the proverbial other shoe dropped. But…what if he _would_ say no? What if he asked and Red stared at him like he had brain worms? What if he pushed the love of his life away forever and never had another chance to make Red his? His everything would shatter and he would be left in the same frigid, despondent loneliness that had consumed him for cycles upon cycles. No. He couldn't ask. He just couldn't do it. Not now.

Purple took a deep breath, squinting at the growing image of Sledhob's mansion in the distance. Right now, they had bigger problems to worry about. Right now, they were going to war with the beast that tried to keep them apart.

* * *

The transmission had been confirmed; Pem and his fleet were on their way to Judgementia to meet with the Control Brains for their formal evaluations of progress against the Inquisitorian Federation. It was a report that only came every few months and would last a day or two, giving the IRM a bit of time to plan and perform final preparations to their tiny ships. Red had suggested they move out as soon as possible to catch the Armada off guard in the atmosphere over the planet, and Utna had agreed, scrambling her Stingers and returning to her home to give a final offering to her deities for luck and success in battle. They would need all the luck they could get.

Red blinked and scrutinized himself carefully in the mirror, tightening the heavy shoulder plates of his old armor before turning to the side to make sure everything was in its proper place. Surprisingly, despite growing another inch since he had donned it last, it still fit, a potent crimson visage of his time ruling the Empire with an iron fist and a visual reminder that it still belonged to him, no matter how hard he would have to fight to rip his planet away from the dictators threatening to destroy it. It had been so long since he had gone to war directly, but he was more than ready, thirsty for the disgusting destruction that was surely to come. He felt it somewhere deep in the pit of his stomach, an unbearable ache to maim and annihilate that he had always tried to swallow but now was slowly unhooking from its leash. He would need to be ruthless, bloodthirsty, and formidable, showing no fear in the faces of those he had once commanded. He smirked to himself and adjusted one of the many straps securing his tall boots over his calves. They would never see it coming, a vermillion streak of death come to collect their very souls and usher them on to the scorching underworld they deserved to burn in. Unfortunately, he would only be in the air, commanding the IRM from his post in the Viral Tank, but Red secretly knew he would eventually end up in his Shuuver. There would be no way Utna could take on the menace of Pem's prized fleet by herself; she would need an ace under her belt to obliterate screeching targets like the bite-sized snacks they were, crunching through steel and tearing through blazing cannons like they were tin. Red could already feel the rush of adrenaline coursing through his bloodstream at the thought of running his hands over the clutch of such a dangerous piece of Irken engineering, feeling the body-wracking shockwaves of hundreds of lethal explosions splaying his victory in the cosmos like a hot, fleeting fresco. He was the artist, and he would paint the skies with the pink blood of his allies turned enemies. Ah…it would be beautiful.

Red took a few steps back and admired the crisp suit of armor he had once worn only for ceremonial nonsense, running his trained gaze over the thick breastplate and formidable gauntlets he had always wanted to use. Now they would drink in the horrors of gore and organ piercing screams, a welcome lullaby in his destructive wake. He blinked when he caught sight of Purple's identical set he had laid out on their mattress, cold and untouched as he waited for his partner to finish up his talk with Lard Nar. It had almost been a full twenty minutes since they had parted, and Red already knew they weren't talking about their soldier's orders. There was something else bothering Purple he was dancing around and refusing to voice, and Red was pretty sure he knew exactly what it was.

Purple was scared.

He had seen the horrendous, mind-bending horrors of mass-murder and bodies contorted beyond recognition, but he had only ever taken the life of one tiny Vortian. If Red was being completely honest with himself, he was absolutely petrified to let Purple venture to the surface with the ground troop, knowing he still wasn't ready to take on the roaring, vicious wave of the Irken Elite that would attempt to rake him in half with long, sharpened claws and searing PAK extensions. Red had tried his best to prepare his lover for whatever awaited him in battle, but he hadn't improved much from when they started. Purple was an alright shot from a few meters, but an absolutely terrible shot from afar. He could barely keep his rifle straight, always forgetting to utilize the correct crosshairs in his scope and opting to wing it against his better judgement and much to Red's continued grief. His pistol work was no better, and he always struggled to rack the heavy slide to the point that Red had exchanged his original weapon for a petite Inquisitorian training pistol to better fit his hand. No amount of running brutal laps or forcing him to stand still for cruel hours with his rifle above his head had hammered anything into Purple's thick skull. He was decent in hand to hand combat, when he actually _tried_, but he still ended up on the ground more often than not. They had even tried pairing him with Lard Nar once in hopes that Purple would be able to take someone around the same height as the Irkens he would be fighting, but the little Vortian had decked him in three seconds flat, forcing Purple to merely throw his arms in the air in irate frustration and storm off for a few hours. Someone had later found him lounging under the bleachers with an entire bag of snack food he had stolen from the mess hall and a transmitter he had been using to watch dumb Inquisitorian dramas. Red couldn't count the long nights they spent supplementing his training in the privacy of their own room, trying to drill pressure points and vital artery placement into Purple's mind to little success. It wasn't like he was stupid. In fact, he was far from it. He was one of the sharpest, cunning, innovative Irkens Red had ever met, he just didn't apply himself fully or feel he was capable enough to be a soldier. And it was that lack of confidence that was going to get him killed.

Red moved back to the bed, reaching out with tentative hands and running his fingers over the cool metal of his partner's armor, the weight of what was to transpire finally hitting him like a freight train. He was sending a bubbly mechanic, a sarcastic aristocrat, and the love of his life to war. What if he didn't come back? They had stared into the callous face of death their fair share of times in the past cycle, but this was different. This wasn't close quarters combat in a tiny research station or hiding out from a Meekrobian patrol in the woods. This wasn't fixing a computer system on the Massive to force back a Vortian terrorist with a power complex and a need to dominate. This was full blown, chaotic, heartless war. Red thought back to his first time participating in a ground sweep and the nightly psychological torture it continued to slog him with. He was young, wide-eyed and innocently looking forward to his first campaign after graduating from the Academy with flying colors. He had always been top of his class and had received special commendations from Tallest Miyuki herself for his innovations in flight technology and battle strategy. Strangely, she had thought that his cunning eye for maneuverability would be useful at the Callnowian front as a Sergeant, throwing him in the thick of the merciless, now extinct, Callnowians and their rapid-fire plasma systems. His team had been massacred like animals for slaughter, forcing Red to pull out and retreat miles inland to preserve the four-soldier battalion he had somehow managed to retain in the thick, moist jungles of the pitiless countryside. He had gotten his men to a drop sight and was awarded by the Empire for his incredible bravery, but he was never the same. You were never the same when you watched the private you had just been laughing with seconds before get shot through the eye and fall dead in a pool of his own sticky blood. You were never the same when you saw the glowing blue of your enemy's fanatical pupils as they pinned you in the mud and threatened to gut you like a beast with their teeth. Red would never be the same as he was when he was young, and he was alright with that; he had made peace with his horrific flashbacks long ago. Purple, on the other hand, would be ruined, and that bothered Red more than anything.

Red jolted when the door swung open and quickly shut, his lanky partner finally showing up and immediately crossing to the bed to flop face first into the fluffy mattress. Red didn't say anything, watching him for a long while as he lay still and wallowed in whatever thoughts were plaguing him this time. How could he ask someone so innocent, so unwilling, to throw away what remained of that beautiful mind in favor of bloodshed? All for what? An empire that had kicked them out?

Red lowered himself down on the edge of the bed, reaching out and placing a hand against the warm small of his partner's back, swallowing when he felt him stiffen at the sudden touch. "Purple, I've been thinking," he began quietly, "and I don't want you to go to the surface."

Purple mumbled something and rolled onto his side, immediately shaking his head. "Shut up. I knew you would say that." He piped up with surprising confidence, catching Red off guard. "I need to do this, alright?"

Red hesitated, unnerved by the bizarre spike of bravery his partner was showering him with. What had Lard Nar said to make him so…resilient? "Are you sure? I'm giving you a chance to stay here and wait this whole thing out and-"

"I'm sure." Purple reaffirmed sternly, pushing himself up with a nervous grin and working to peel off his sweat laden clothing. "Look, I don't wanna do this. No one does. But if I let those other dumbass mechanics go down there by themselves, they won't have a clue how to take the brains offline." He tossed his shirt to the side.

"And you do?" Red asked slowly, already knowing the answer. "Pur, we've never even seen inside the Control Brains. How are you going to know what to do?"

Purple shrugged, finally stripping completely with a stretch before moving to work on his under armor. "You need to have more faith in me, Red. I was top of my class in aerospace engineering. It can't be that much different." He chuckled, stopping himself with a frown when Red averted his worried gaze to the floor. "Ok, fine. You got me. I'm terrified to go down there and do this, but it's not like we have a choice. Like I said, the team needs me down there with them to hold everything together."

"But…we _do_ have a choice, Pur, and I'm trying to give it to you." Red eyed him closely when he tugged on his mechanic's belt, latching it securely in the front and readjusting a few of his tools when they slipped. "The team can function without you."

Purple shot his partner an irritated look at the unintentional insult, throwing his hands momentarily on his hips and narrowing his eyes hotly. "So, what you're saying is I've been training for nothing for the past six months?" He pointed out, trying to get Red to see the flimsiness of his own ridiculous logic.

"No, but-"

"And everything you've been working hard to teach me has been a pointless waste of my time?"

"No, Pur, I just-"

"Then you _do_ need me." Purple reached down and slung his arms through the reinforced slats of his breastplate, struggling to tug it on and working to clasp it in the front. "Why on Irk would you, Teem, Lard Nar, Utna, and thousands of other troops be called to go but I have to stay back after everything we've been through? Yeah, I'm scared out of my mind. Lard Nar and I talked about it and I realized I have my reasons for needing to do this. Don't take that away from me because I am going whether you like it or not."

Red had no more ammunition; Purple's firm reasoning was far too sound to poke holes through. Instead he reluctantly admitted defeat and took a few steps forward and helped him secure his gauntlets firmly in place in silence, smiling a bit when Purple extended his arms welcomingly to the trained touch.

_You're right, Pur. I do need you._

Red felt his nerves spike when Purple matched his uneasy, shaky smile with a beautiful one of his own, the closeness between them a much-needed comfort to the awful doom they were forcing themselves to endure. For the past month or so, things had been different between them and Red felt like it was his fault. It was nothing bad…just…different. The realization had come one night as they walked hand in hand down the streets of the Inquisitorian capitol, passing a cheesy shop packed to the brim with traditional, but absolutely gaudy, women's wedding dresses and cerulean men's robes. Purple had pointed and snickered at the disgusting, faux jewel-encrusted abominations before tugging Red along, telling a few brazen jokes about how matrimony and prison were basically the same thing and laughing when Red had indifferently agreed. That had stuck with him in an odd way that he hadn't expected it to, overriding Purple's early slip up on the Viral Tank about how he was jokingly preparing for their own marriage. From that moment on, Red had seen his partner in a different light, as if everything he did now had a peculiar, refreshing glow to it. The way he had enthusiastically learned to cook for them both under the watchful teachings of Kez, the adorably annoying way he would flick little bits of popcorn in Red's direction when he was trying to read in the library, and the way he vainly whined about how his sun-darkened freckles made him look like a smeet were all music to Red's antennae. He had denied the warm, profound feelings gnawing at his spooch at first, chocking it up to the fact that they were finally able to be open about their once illicit relationship, but Red had slowly begun to realize that his needs and wants were much deeper than he had originally anticipated…and that terrified him out of his mind. He, a reasonable, unsympathetic Irken was growing to be wholeheartedly reliant on the soft, loving, violet eyes of someone who couldn't even hold his own against the tiny jabs their team affectionately threw his way when he would trip over his own feet or drop his rifle at the last second with a girly screech when the hair trigger accidentally went off in his hands. Purple was an absolute mess; a greedy, chauvinistic, whiny piece of work that wore thin Red's frayed patience day after day only to breathe life back into it behind closed doors over hushed dinner and gorgeous, passionate kisses to his neck from behind. He was a horrible, appalling wreck…but one Red wanted to crash and burn with. That had solidified in his mind the moment he thought Purple had died aboard the Massive. When the sickening question began to half-heartedly flitter through his mind, Red had tried his best to push it away, knowing all too well if he asked, he would come off as wanting to dive too deep far too quickly.

Still, it followed him like a poltergeist, screaming through Red's thoughts and forcing him to awkwardly stumble over his words when Purple would roll over in the morning light and ask how long he had been staring at him or fumble with shaky hands when Purple would laugh ardently and ask Red to dance with him in the cheesy way only he could. Every feather-light 'I love you' and fleeting, well placed touch of the shoulder on the training field pulled Red further and further into the depths of no return, swallowing him whole in the terrifying uncertainty of the conclusion he always circled back to against his will;

_I want to marry you._

Red swallowed thickly when Purple turned without a word, silently asking him to tighten his stiff titanium corset into place. He reached out, running his hands lightly over the perfect waist he had come to know like the back of his hand, locking his partner in place as he sucked in his breath against the familiar restriction. What…what would it be like to marry Purple? Red had asked himself this question many times over in the past month, but always forced it away, worried that it would open up something inside him he wouldn't be able to tame with rationality. It hadn't been until Lard Nar had caught him in the corridor last week, probing him over his uncomfortably uncharacteristic, distracted attention and finally drug the truth out of his mouth like the strange soothsayer he was. Red was almost positive that the creepy little guy could read minds as they ventured through the dark hallway together, chatting lightly about past love interests and sexual conquests in the way guy friends did, toying with one another and trying to outdo each other's increasingly vulgar experiences. They had laughed a bit at their own ridiculousness, stopping at the mess hall to steal a midnight snack before heading back. Purple had been asleep at that point, exhausted by Red's cruel but loving training as they finally made it to their door, Lard Nar thinking a few long moments before asking a sudden question that Red hadn't been expecting. He had almost floored him when he piped up out of nowhere, forcing Red to come to terms with the tidal wave of emotion he had desperately tried to suppress.

_So, when are you going to ask Purple to marry you? _

Red didn't have an answer at the time, overcome by sheer shock and the audacity his friend had to ask him something so deeply private, but knowing in the back of his racing thoughts that he was also on to something very serious. When _was_ he going to ask? Is that what Red really wanted? After all the time he had spent chasing after loose women and getting lost in pointless sex that would turn freezing and stagnant at first light, he had found a sense of true, uninhibited belonging at the hands of his best friend. Purple had shown him a whole new way to live, proving to Red through his own internalized self-doubt that it wasn't a crime to love but rather a beautiful opportunity they could share together in this long, unforgiving life. It was no secret anymore that he was in love with Purple, but marriage was a commitment that he wasn't sure he would ever be ready to handle; would he even be a good husband? Purple hadn't dropped any hints that he wanted to get married and usually poked fun at the idea. Would he even _want_ to? Ugh, why was this even a debate right now? They were going to war for Irk's sake!

"Are we giving a formal speech before we leave?"

Purple's question rocketed Red out of his frantic questioning, causing him to shout involuntarily, much to Purple's amusement. He spun back around and laughed at the humiliating shade staining Red's cheeks, grinning when he scrambled to hide it.

"Aw, Red, you're so cute!" Purple toyed cruelly, adjusting his shoulder pads here and there until he was satisfied by how everything had come to rest against his skin. "Did you get all hot and bothered just from touching me?"

"N-No!" Red retorted, feeling his voice crack from embarrassment. "I was thinking about something!"

Purple giggled again, not buying it despite it being the truth. "You don't have to lie. I know I'm amazing and I like it when you get this way." He teased coyly with a smirk that made Red want to punch him in the jaw. "Anyway, I asked if we were giving a speech?"

Red ignored the question again, taking a few steps back and admiring his partner with mounting awe at how absolutely powerful he looked. For the first time since they had met, Red could see formidable potential shining through his lover's cocky smile, projecting out a genuinely terrifying air that made him want to stay back a few feet. Every glorious panel hugged exquisitely to his form like a glove, swaying naturally with every little movement he made and glinting with intimidating suggestively in the light. The crisp tail of his long back panel skirted his knees and made him look taller and leaner somehow, a once rough hunk of chaotic clay that Red had molded into…well…still a chaotic disaster. But at least Purple was somewhat capable of taking care of himself now; he was Red's disaster.

Red blinked, trying to find something to say as he gestured silently to the incredible sight before him, captivated by how he had never noticed how amazing Purple looked in battle armor. "Wow." He settled on, cringing a bit at his own gracelessness.

Purple spun with a cheeky grin, eating up the attention like a voracious child. "Does it look that good?" He mused childishly, forgetting his fears momentarily as the light came back to his eyes at Red's excited nod. "You've seen me in this before, idiot."

"Yeah, but you know it's different now." Red responded, glancing to the door when a faint knock resounded. He chuckled as he made his way across the floor, refusing to peel his gaze from his self-important partner. "Now you're like a dream. A terrifying, asshole of a dream."

"I try." Purple bit back slyly, nodding for Red to open the door and turning back to the bed to fiddle with his goggles.

Red felt his smile fade as he tugged it open, swallowing when Lard Nar's horns drew back expectantly, and he attempted to look past his friend into the room before speaking in a frantic hiss of a whisper.

"Did you ask?"

Red furiously shushed him, pushing him back hard with his knee before glancing back to where Purple stood, feeling his pulse escalate and sighing in heavy alleviation when he was sure he hadn't heard anything.

"Who is it and what do they want?" Purple asked blankly, adjusting his goggles over his eyes and running through the filters, frowning when one of them wasn't aligned quite right.

"Um…It's just Teem." Red lied pathetically through his teeth with a wide, gawky smile. "Yeah! I need to talk to her about…"

Lard Nar ran an irritated hand over the side of his face and cleared his throat, attempting to put on the highest pitched voice he could manage and mimic Teem's valley girl accent to the best of his ability. What did Irken women like to talk about? "About how to…curl my antennae?"

Red shot him a look of repulsed aversion and Lard Nar panicked, shrugging and ducking around the side of the doorframe when he heard Purple burst out in a fit of boisterous laughter.

"I didn't know you knew how to do that, Red." He giggled when Red's expression fell flat with exasperation as he rolled his eyes. "I've considered doing it a few times. You'll have to show me how."

"Yeah, yeah. Just finish getting ready and give me a minute." Red grumbled, stalking out the hatch and slamming it hard behind him, slumping against the cold metal and glaring down at his idiot of a friend. "Really? _That's_ what you come up with?" Lard Nar stuttered over his syllables, trying to mouth out a pitiful apology before Red waved it away. "Shut up. Why are you here?"

Lard Nar took a deep breath, recollecting himself before motioning Red away from the door, eyeing a group of Inquisitorian guard suspiciously and waiting for them to stomp past before he finally spoke. "Did you ask?" He repeated with growing importance.

Red sighed and glanced to the side. "Well," He tried to find a way to lie, but decided against it. "No."

Lard Nar frowned in annoyed disappointment, as if he had some kind of godly authority over Red's wishes. "Why not? We talked about this!" He murmured urgently.

"Give me a break! I'm not ready yet!" Red threw his hands in front of him, his armor clinking out his frustrations. "It's not like I can rush things like this! I wanna do it right. I can't just walk up to him like 'hey, honey, sorry I'm sending you to your death but do you wanna get hitched?'"

Lard Nar shook his head with a look of dissatisfied disinterest. "Take it from me; you're going to war, kid. You had better find a way to get ready or you may never get a chance again."

"_Kid_? I'm older than you!"

"No you're not."

"What? How old are you?"

"I turned 422 last cycle. If you were born on my planet, I could be your father."

"What the hell?" Red shrunk back and curled his lip at the strange realization, quickly brushing it off and willing himself to stay on topic. "Anyway, it's my decision and I told you I'm not ready." He paused, dropping his voice back down to a low whisper to mask his anxieties. "Plus, what if he says no?"

Lard Nar flashed him a sympathetic smile and reached out, patting him lightly on the arm, holding back the incredible information he had learned from Purple not even an hour ago and deciding to continue playing matchmaker between his two stupid, incredibly clueless best friends. Luckily for him, they still hadn't suspected a thing about his plans to initiate wedding bells in their future.

"I don't think he'll say _no_." He repeated the same phrase he had told to Purple, hoping one of them had the guts to actually ask the other. How could they both be so blind to each other's wishes in the first place?

Red still refused to acknowledge the obvious, shaking his head and pushing off the wall to make his way back to his door, Lard Nar rolling his eyes in complacency behind his goggles. "I didn't come for just that. They're ready for you in the mess hall." He grumbled, spinning on his heel and stalking off. "You should take my advice before you regret it."

Red narrowed his eyes heatedly at his friend's back, wanting to spit in his direction but refraining when the guards shot them a searing look of suspicion. "How can I take your advice if you couldn't ask Urb Yen? Last time I checked you're still single!" He called rudely, huffing to himself as Lard Nar rounded the corner and piped back up heatedly.

"For your information, Commander, I'm dating Flich!" He snapped before disappearing completely.

Red turned back to the door in hot irritation. The sheer gall Lard Nar had sometimes! What right did he have to talk to him like that? Red wasn't Tallest anymore, but he was still co-Commander of the IRM and perfectly capable of making his own decisions. So…why was he sweating thinking about proposing to his partner? Why did he feel like the whole world was trying to suffocate him? Maybe he should take Lard Nar's advice and just jump headfirst into the unknown. No. Stop it. You can think about this when you and Purple win this stupid war and shoot Pem out into the cold reaches of space.

He tugged the door back open, poking through and immediately making eye contact with Purple sitting cross-legged on the bed. Oh shit. Did he hear anything?

"That sounded like Lard Nar." Purple asked gradually, narrowing his wide eyes in suspicion as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Did you help Teem with her weird antennae problem?"

Red blinked, choosing to only nod as he straightened up. "Mhm."

"Are you _sure_?"

"Yup."

"There's nothing you're hiding from me?"

"Nope."

Purple stood, crossing to the door and giving Red a final, hard, glare before stepping through and following him out into the hallway. Fortunately, he still seemed completely in the dark, trying to scare his nervous partner into what he wanted to say but not knowing what that something actually was. Red let himself breath when Purple reached for his hand and the two finally took off for the mess hall. Hopefully, he would stay clueless.

* * *

The hall was packed to the brim with IRM recruits bustling about and talking vigorously with one another as armor clinked and weapons brushed against one another. It was impressive; they had gone from a meager 150 in the beginning to over 300 after the image of Red and Purple's famous kiss had swept through the galaxy and dotted newspapers and transmissions throughout the star system. Irken rebels had popped up from everywhere, some outcasts and others defectives that had somehow managed to escape from their cells on Judgementia, raring for a new Irk and a home that would allow them to finally be themselves without restriction. Purple recognized a few of them, flinching in disgust when he locked eyes with the repulsive little creature they had sent to Earth so long ago. At least here his explosive nature would be put to good use. Thank Irk he wasn't part of Purple's foot soldiers.

Teem called out to their left with a thunderous screech, stomping her heavy combat boots on the hard tile. "Quiet down you freaks of nature!" She bellowed wildly. "Your Commanders will now give their final address before we blow these bastards out of our universe!"

Her request had the opposite effect, causing the crowd to erupt in a frenzied uproar of screaming war cries and hoots of brazen, bloodthirsty fervor. They weren't just cheering for Irk, they were cheering for themselves. This was quite the feat they were going to attempt; no Irken before had gone up against the diabolical rule of the Control Brains since their foundation and Purple couldn't tell if the crowd was genuinely excited or just trying to mask their bloodcurdling terror. He raised a purposeful hand, immediately hushing the throng to a dull roar and motioning respectfully for Red to step forward.

"Welcome, brave IRM soldiers!" Red began stridently, sweeping the crowd as they finally hushed in anxious eagerness. "We are proud to officially initiate Operation Whistleblower into action as we prepare to not only take back Irk but protect the millions of other planets in our galaxy from the mechanical menace that threatens our people!"

More deafening cheering resounded through the cramped space, pumping Purple up for the rehearsed words he had run over hundreds of times in his head in preparation for when they would finally be able to kick everything off. He cleared his throat, taking his place next to his seething partner before speaking as calmly and professionally as he could muster.

"It's time to put your training to the test! Some of you may lose your lives today, but know your names will not die in vain but will be remembered as heroes to our cause!" He threw a fist in the air as he gritted his teeth. "You have your orders! Get out there and make us proud!"

"Get out there and prove yourself to your planets!" Red joined in.

Purple grinned. "Get out there and set us free!"

The crowd ate it up, breaking out in a hellish chant that brought on a swell of Irk-shattering pride deep in Purple's spooch as the strident noise dug under his skin in the best of ways.

"Freedom! Freedom! Freedom!"

It was time. There would be no more waiting. Utna stalked forward, decorated in deep blue, scaly armor and given a few inches by the gargantuan battle helmet perched expertly atop her head.

"You heard 'em boys!" She barked properly, slamming the hard end of her staff on the ground with a deafening boom. "Separate! Fleet to the left, ground battalion to the right!"

Teem flashed Purple a final, giddy smile before leaping from the stage and taking off to the left, catching up with her wife who was hastily adjusting her headset for the hundredth time and grabbing her for a sloppy pre-battle kiss as Kez swooned in her arms. Lard Nar made his way to the left as well, giving his leaders a curt wave before disappearing into the throng of nervous laughter and adrenaline-fueled stutters, neatly curled horns making his way to the door to wait patiently for action.

"Well…I guess this is it, huh?" Red mumbled, reaching out and taking Purple's hands in his before running his thumbs over the dips in his palms. "Do you remember your promise?"

Purple didn't want to say it. Saying it meant there was always a chance that something could go horribly wrong. He felt his nervousness return as he swallowed, trying to fight back the unexpected tears pricking at the corners of his eyes at the sound of Red's voice. "Don't make me say it."

Red smiled a sad smile, trying to take in as much of his partner's face as he could before he had to leave with the others calling out to him. "You don't have to. Just be sure you come home to me." He whispered under his breath.

Purple couldn't help himself. "Fuck you, Red!" He burst into tears, flying forward and pulling him in to a tight hug, not ready to let go as the weight of the world settled between them. This was the last time, potentially ever, that he would get to hold his partner and he was going to make it last, digging his fingers into the cold metal of his shoulder plates. "I didn't want you to say it!"

"Sorry." Red chuckled nervously, fighting off his own emotions as he squeezed back, pulling back just enough to press a feverish kiss to his partner's lips. "But please. Don't die."

"I'm not gonna die, asshole." Purple choked, kissing back with equal intensity before Utna tapped hard on his back. "Who would be here to take care of you?"

"We need to go. They're almost in position for our jump." She reminded urgently, sneering at the horrid mess Purple had quickly become. "And wipe your face. You look gross."

Red chuckled and led Purple to the edge of the stage, jumping down and extending a hand up with that glint in his eye that always made his partner melt. "You do look pretty gross." He teased, trying to take the edge off the terror they both felt over having to split up.

Purple flashed him a shaky grin and took his hand, allowing his partner to guide him down before immediately pulling him back into another frenzied embrace as he sobbed. He couldn't get enough of those strong arms. It would never be enough. Purple tried to memorize everything he could in their last few minutes together; Red's comforting scent, his beautiful, steely determination, the gentle rise and fall of his lilting voice. Everything was his and everything drove him forward towards their joint wish for a better future. If they could do this and take back Irk, they could guarantee a world where no Irken would ever be murdered for love or individuality again. Still, Purple didn't want to let go. As soon as he did, this would be real. He didn't want it to be real.

Red pulled back first, instead bringing their foreheads together when Utna barked out her growing displeasure once again, trying to urge them to wrap it up so they could finally get their war underway.

"I'll be in your headset the entire time." Red breathed, running a cool palm up behind his lover's neck as he ignored the curses thrown indignantly in their direction. "I'll be able to hear you and if anything goes wrong, I'll come for you."

Purple nodded, feeling his breath catch when Red leaned in and stole another slow, lingering kiss before letting him go completely, fingertips brushing back across his cheek until Purple could no longer feel him. They held each other's eye contact and Purple flashed him a pained smile, trying to hold it together so the last image his partner would remember of him wouldn't be his gut-wrenching agony or his raw, tear-streaked face. Red sunk back in with the fleet and returned it, thinking a moment before cupping his hands around his mouth and calling back out unexpectedly.

"Purple? W-When you get back…I need to…I need to…um…"

Purple let his smile fade and mimicked Red's movements with a response of his own. "You need to what?!" He yelled back in perplexity, watching as Red grappled with some unseen force and rolled something on his tongue.

"I…I need to ask you something!" He finally decided on with a hesitant grin and a nervous chuckle. "Just come back to me, alright?!"

Purple held back a laugh when Red continued to back up, bumping into Teem who shoved him hard out of her way and almost forced him to lose his balance. Still, he didn't break eye contact. Purple nodded and choked on another sob. "I have to ask you something too!" He cried, craning to keep his gaze centered on his partner as the group began to file out of the adjacent door to the fleet waiting outside. "I love you, Red! I-I love you!"

"I love you too, Purple! I promise I'll come back! I promise, baby!"

That was it. Red was gone from his sight. Purple immediately felt chilled to the core, numbed to the world as Utna put a gentle feeler on his back and ushered him on with the rest of the battalion to the drop ship she would be using to airlift them into battle. Even through all of their training and Red's preparation night after night for this moment, Purple still felt like it had split him in two. There was no way he would have ever been prepared for something like this, images of Red's intense gaze stinging him back into submission. He blinked, remembering what Red had told him before reaching up and fumbling with the internal communications system in the strap of his goggles, flipping through static ridden channels until he landed on the source code for their Viral Tank, listening with mounting apprehensions as the fleet poured in and clamored about past the bridge. Red wasn't in the pilot's seat yet, but Purple could still hear him in the background, running through formal plans and orders one final time and manually checking everyone's uniforms and weapons as Teem guided everyone to their closing stations.

There was a loud tap to the communicator on the other end, forcing Purple to flatten his antennae as his team made their way outside. He waited a moment before a surprising voice hummed against his skin, drawing an unforeseen grin out of him at the tiny squeak of a giggle that followed.

"Sir? Are you there?"

Purple could pick out that sweet, beautiful sound a mile away; it was Kez. He didn't question, nodding to himself and quickly remembering she couldn't see him. "Ah, yeah. I'm here."

Kez giggled again on the other end and Purple heard her shift across the squeaking leather of the seat. "I wanted to tell you good luck…and thank you for bringing us all together." She whispered, choking on her own escalating feelings before swallowing them down. "I'll watch him for you, ok? I can see him from my desk, so you have nothing to worry about."

The glare from the hot Inquisitorian sun blinded him a final time as Utna led them on to her huge, globular flagship, letting go of Purple's shoulder and striding confidently forward to throw open the main hatch. "Thank you." Purple responded finally, following the Defense Minister inside and waiting by the entrance to manually inspect the whole of his team. "Throw something at him if he gets too cocky."

"You got it! Now go kick some butt!"

With that, Kez was gone and the mundane background noise resurfaced, Red's muffled voice the only anchor Purple had in his sea of uncertainty and fast-growing fear. He nodded each of his soldiers on, trying to hold himself tall and resolute as each and every one saluted before taking their places to the side of the massive repelling doors in the floor, reaching up and hooking their carabiners into the guard rail mounted into the ceiling. After a headcount was performed and everyone was thoroughly checked, Utna took her position in the cockpit and Purple went down the line, tugging hard on everyone's hardware to make sure they were secured firmly in place for takeoff. Once he willed his rapid pulse to calm and fought back his own wooziness, he strapped himself in at the head of the group, glancing out of the open hatch and blinking when he saw the Viral Tank slowly rise from the surface.

"You there, Pur?"

Purple nearly came out of his skin at the sudden change of volume, earning a few amused snickers from behind. "Geez, turn down your mic, idiot!" He scolded when Red laughed, fiddling with switches and running a final check on his thrusters.

"Sorry, thought I would make sure you were awake and ready to go. We're taking off for the first offense in two minutes. Remember, the fleet is going to punch a hole for Utna's ship to the surface. You'll have exactly thirty seconds to drop when you reach the landing zone." Red instructed thoroughly. "Are you ready, honey?"

Purple could almost hear the hidden sarcasm in his voice. "I thought you hated that word." He teased back, gripping tight at the guardrail when the sonic boom from Red's jump codes rocketed his ship off into the distance and out of sight.

"Yeah, well, I'm getting used to it!" Red yelled over the intense howl and static of warp speed, turning his attention to someone in the cockpit with him. "Arriving at Judgementia in forty-five seconds! All Spittle Runners prepare to launch!"

"Yes, sir!"

Purple swallowed and signaled Utna to close the hatch, stiffening when she nodded and snapped for her guard to pull it shut, ensuring the airlock was firmly in place before adjusting her pilot's visor and calling out to the crew.

"Prepare for takeoff."

The gargantuan ship lurched as the landing gear ascended and the booming roar of thrusters heating outside ripped through the bay, forcing nervous antennae flat and wild eyes to squeeze shut. Purple held his breath as the ship shuddered, lifting from the ground and rapidly gaining altitude to follow after Red and the rest of the IRM fleet to their horrific doom. This was it; they would either be victorious or they would be dead.

"Red?"

"Yeah?"

"I'll see you soon."

* * *

Woo! _**Next update will be on ****Thursday, 10.24.2019 at 10:00 pm CDT (UTC -5)**_ so I have enough time to write this out. Each chapter takes me an average of 6 hours to complete just because I have so many distractions through my day. Thank you guys and I really love seeing all of your wonderful reviews. They make me really happy. Tune in next time!


	20. A Shot in the Dark

Wow! Has it been 20 chapters already?! Time flies when you're having fun! I know one of our reviewers said this was going well for an insurgency movement and that made them happy, but…eh…it's getting ready to not go well. Sorry! Have fun and I really do appreciate your reviews, my lovelies!

**Chapter rated strong M for graphic depictions of blood/gore/violence, brief heavy language, light (unintentional) drug use, and general adult themes. The whole shebang this time. I am only kind of sorry.**

* * *

"Arriving at Judgementia in 3, 2, 1!" Utna cried out.

As soon as they broke warp, the ship jerked and was knocked off course as the fried, blazing hull of an Irken made Spittle Runner collided hard with the main cab, forcing Purple's entire team to shriek out in panic and scramble to grab anything they could to keep from loosing their balance. Utna yelped and sped out of the way just as another mangled ship came into their shaky flightpath and exploded, forcing the ship into an upward ascent as Purple flattened his antennae in shock and grabbed frantically at the overhead support bar, glancing back when a few others slid several feet but were caught by the sturdy hold of their carabiners, clinging to one another as they dangled pathetically in the air. It was absolute, violent chaos outside; sonic booms from overexerted thrusters screamed and rocketed through the thin veil of atmosphere, deadly plasma shots tore through metal and obliterated targets, shrapnel threatened to crack glass and cooling units. Purple could barely see Red's Viral Tank through the glare rebounding off of the planet's heavily clouded mesosphere, obscuring the horrific dogfight just enough to keep him on edge. There were more ships than they were expecting, zipping and fighting their way through the IRM's pathetic attempts to keep them at bay and attacking their flagship directly in a powerful counterstrike. Oh, Irk, it was going to be a massacre!

"Red, what the hell?!" Purple impulsively readjusted his goggles and flipped through stations, landing on a scrolling map of the planet's exterior several thousand miles beneath them as he tried to remain calm through the thunderous detonations around them. "You were supposed to punch a hole for us to the surface!"

There was deafening static followed by the unnerving sound of heavy canon fire and communication's officers scrambling about in the tumultuous confusion. Red yelled something that set his communicator into an antennae-piercing whine before quickly readjusting it. "It was an ambush! Pem had reinforcements waiting in the ozone! We're talking a fleet maybe 800 strong!" He finally barked, trailing off as more plasma blasts rang out followed by the muffled sound of Teem screaming out orders in the background. "You're going to have to make it to the surface yourself! I can distract them, but not for long! We need backup!"

Purple glanced up when his pulse went erratic and his stomach dropped. How did Pem know they were coming? Was this all a ploy to drag them out of hiding?! The ship lurched again when a swift Shuuver opened fire, aiming dangerously close to Utna's external atmospheric tanks and forcing her to pull the heavy machine into a spiraling nose dive to towards the planet.

"We don't have time to wait for Commander Red!" She cried over the hiss of friction and the shudder of heavy turbulence clawing at the panels of the gargantuan ship and threatening to tear them to shreds. "My fleet and I have to get back out there for support! You're dropping now, boys!"

"N-Now?!" Purple called back over the commotion, going rigid when a troop of Inquisitorian guards began shoving loaded rifles into everyone's trembling hands and speedily unhooking their carabiners to prepare for the terrifying drop. He took his weapon with a thick swallow as he felt himself pulled free, biting back his PAK's urge to short out as he focused on running through the motions like he had trained to do.

Think.

Everyone would have to ready their PAK legs for landing as soon as the bay doors flew open; the ground would be unpredictable and hard, and they would immediately have to scout for cover or risk deadly exposure. There would be gunfire and ruthless, violent resistance from the Elite waiting for them, and it would be imperative to keep the mechanics safe. They were the heart keeping this now shaky operation afloat, the fly in Pem's sadistic ointment, and the only way the repulsive Control Brains waiting at the center of the war would be stripped of their precious electric lifeline. As soon as they swept the area, they would move inland towards the Spike of Judgement, taking with them any opposing force that dared try and stop them from reaching their objective.

Breathe.

There would be blood. There would be tissue. There would be screaming and thrashing and begging for lives that were never supposed to be theirs to take. Everyone would get tunnel vision and turn off to the invasive smells and unnatural textures; they would go deaf to the strident boom of Irken-grade explosives and go blind to the inhumane horrors of striking down their own unfortunate species. Don't let it get to you. This has to happen for the collective good. There is no other way.

Nausea.

Purple took a deep, uneven breath as they broke the sound barrier, the vast, mechanical hills and glittering streets of the pinnacle of the Irken justice system staring back at him and mocking his fear through the windshield. This was not the time for anxiety and definitely not the time to get sick. He had to focus, had to submit to the pound of the lucid high rushing through his bloodstream as his PAK shot him with copious amounts of norepinephrine in an attempt to combat his fight-or-flight reflex. Strangely, Purple was feeling pretty good as he shook the medically induced inebriation from the back of his mind, feeling the surge of chemicals converge over his nervous system and set him alight with an intense, archaic need to destroy. He felt…alive. It was almost terrifying how quickly his desperate need for bone-crushing warfare had arisen, forcing him to grip tightly at the stock of his rifle to retain his morality before he lost it completely. He tried to run through everything Red had taught him step by step, adjusting his scope a final time and flicking off the safety before turning and joining the others over the huge bay doors that would plummet them to their united downfall.

"Remember," He began over the roar of the wind outside with a bizarre confidence he was sure he was about to lose, "our primary objective is to keep our mechanics safe and get them, and I, to the brains! If we can manage to get through this, we can take back Irk in _our_ name!"

No one responded. There were a few petrified nods and woozy thumbs up as knees threatened to buckle and hands trembled loosely over hair triggers. They all knew they were about to die, and through the incredibly bright cognition Purple's PAK had gifted him with, he could almost hear what they were thinking and bawling out in the cramped safety of their minds.

_Why?_

_ Will I ever come home?_

_ Is it worth it?_

_ I'm scared._

Half of them were young, not yet to their prime and hovering around the ripe age of 120. They had their whole lives ahead of them, had husbands and wives to chase after and parties to crash. But now, as Purple stared them down where they shook in their boots, he actually felt a twinge of something he hadn't felt for the shorter community in cycles; regret. They were doing this for him and his vision of a better Irk without the suffering and torture of social suffocation. These weren't soldiers…they were civilians with basic training and the spark of an idea in their minds that drove them to their bloody demise. Was it too late to tell them to stay behind?

"We've reached the drop sight!" Utna yelled, glancing back over her shoulder and locking eyes with Purple, a slight look of solemn pity coming over her navy features. "Are you ready?"

Purple squeezed his eyes shut and slung the scratchy strap of his rifle over his shoulder, becoming suddenly aware of the weight of his heavy armor clinking and rubbing his joints raw. The euphoria of enlivened, drug-fueled fortitude was beat back by his awful need to run and find Red, to make sure they were together and never separated, reminding himself over and over on a loop that he had to do this.

He had to do this for Irk.

He had to do this for himself.

He had to do this for his future husband.

Finally, he took a sharp, dire inhale and braced for the lucid, weightless feeling of plummeting through the air that was to come. "W-We're ready!" He called back in as courageous a tone as he could muster through his stutter, still refusing to look when Utna flashed him a brief smile.

"Go get 'em, Irken scum."

There was a sudden shift in weight as the hatch flooded open and dropped out beneath their feet, sending the team of sixty into a death-defying freefall towards the waiting streets below. The wind was fierce and the surface was freezing, stinging at sensitive cheeks and fingers as everyone attempted to remain in position as they had practiced, fighting back against the heavy, domineering tug of gravity threatening to force them out of their target landing zone. Purple held firm to his weapon, clenching his teeth as his pulse pounded before he threw out his PAK legs and braced for the painful impact that was to come. He landed first, clenching every muscle in his body involuntarily as he stumbled to latch onto the frigid metal of the streets below his frantic feet, instead falling forward in a graceless heap and smacking his jaw hard on the curb. He panicked when he lost his grip on his rifle and it skidded a few feet, flailing to grab it and roll onto his back before the others collided with the surface directly behind him. There were shouts of pain and grunts of frustration as PAK legs bent and shuddered under the unexpected force, some of the battalion falling to their knees out of overexertion before furiously regaining themselves and huddling together in a tight mass, aiming weapons at towering, ominous buildings and attempting to secure the area. Purple coughed and pushed himself up on shaky arms, crouching with a gasp when he remembered the danger of their exposure and silently motioning for the group to move to higher ground with a quick flick of the wrist.

They moved together, shallow breaths and wide, horrified eyes scanning wildly at empty windows and deserted storefronts as they crept along through the streets of the once bustling metropolis. It was quiet…too quiet. Nothing moved in the shadows, no sewer creatures poked their tiny heads from beneath the well-tended streets, and no civilian ships buzzed and plodded overhead. A profound unease settled in the pit of Purple's spooch as he let his instinct override his biological brain, driven on by the overwhelming need to survive and see his partner again. Where was everyone? Red had told them without a shadow of a doubt that the Elite would be ready to pick them off like fleas as soon as they set foot in the gargantuan city, but all Purple's nervous antennae could pick up was the occasional creek of an unlatched door or the wraith-like howl of the chilly wind rushing through the hundreds of alleyways encroaching in upon them from every angle. He felt stifled and restricted, trying his best to remember to breathe with every tentative step and reminding himself to blink when his wide eyes would sting. Every soft clink of armor behind him pushed him closer to the dangerous, mind-numbing precipice he peered over and every cough or sniffle made him jump. There was no way Pem would have been careless enough to not prepare for a ground invasion; he had proven himself far too clever and conniving to overlook something so pertinent to his continued success. Still, with every abandoned block surmounted and empty corner rounded, there was no one to be found, and that made Purple sweat under his thick armor. Nothing so far was going to plan in the air where Red was having to brutally fight back against 400 more ships than they had been expecting, and now…this? What _was_ this?

"Commander," A tiny science drone piped up at Purple's left, shivering in her thin home-made armor and teeth chattering out of terror, "w-where are they?"

Purple didn't have an answer, swallowing thickly and returning to his goggles, scanning intently over the three-dimensional map of their immediate surroundings for any signs of life. There wasn't a single heat signature to be seen, just the deep blues and violets of the cold, jagged architecture swallowing them whole. Wait…the architecture? He squinted against the vivid glare of the screen and froze in his tracks, feeling someone bump into him from behind as he averted his gaze somewhere he had previously neglected and locked eyes with a sea of bright red and glaring orange heat lying in wait from above. Shit. Shit, _no_!

"It's a trap!" He cried out in terror, grabbing the science drone as she yelped and forcing her up against the rough wall of the nearest building. "Get to the alleyway! They're going to block us in-"

A strident shot rang out from the rooftops, shattering through the drone's flimsy breastplate and PAK and splattering her bright pink blood over the frigid metal behind her. She looked up at her leader in dumbfounded surprise before her jaw went slack and she fell forward with a thud, dropping her rifle as she bled out and went stiff. Purple didn't have time to react, yelping when another shot pierced the metal inches from his face, forcing him to the ground as his troop broke formation and scrambled for cover against the deafening boom of searing plasma. The sniping team sprinted across the street and opened fire on an unexpected troop of Elite officers repelling rapidly down the side of the tower, firing back and ripping one of their youngest members in the throat, forcing him to choke and sputter until the light went from his eyes and he too slammed into the ground. No. No! This couldn't be happening! This wasn't how the plan was supposed to go!

Someone grabbed Purple by the arm and forced him to his feet through his fugue state, dragging him along into the murky shadows of the unforgiving side-street as he watched in terror as their enemies finally made contact with the ground, ripping flesh and maiming inexperienced bodies before turning on the rest of the petrified battalion attempting to flee the scene of the grisly ambush. Purple felt his mind numb and his body go into shock as he stumbled blindly through the dark, his breathing ragged and forced as his muscles burned under the strain of escape and forced endurance. Something collided hard with the hand holding his and a sharp, agonizing scream pierced the blackness, forcing Purple to stumble back as the deep maroon glow of a PAK illuminated the chilling, disturbing darkness and radiated outwards to show the ruthless, bloodthirsty face of an Elite officer grinning back at him.

Purple fumbled to throw up is rifle, yelping when it was torn from his hands and someone landed hard on his back, pinning him against the ground as they engaged in horrific, thrashing combat. The soldier struggled to wrestle away Purple's pistol as he went for it, throwing a hard punch to the little officer's shoulder and missing terribly, crying out in horrified frustration when he felt a powerful blow knock the wind out of him.

"Protect the Commander!" Someone yelled furiously from several feet away, a former food-service drone screaming out a war cry and rushing forward to tackle the Elite to the side, slamming him hard into a dumpster and laying into his unfortunate, soft chest with furious claws and blind rage.

Purple struggled to remain composed through the violence, rolling onto his side just as another officer threw himself down upon him with a screech and snatched at his face and antennae with tiny, irate hands, running sharp cuts through his warm flesh and drawing a pained, frantic hiss from his mouth.

"Purple?! What's happening?!" Red's voice in Purple's overstimulated antennae gave him the final push over the edge, giving him the horrific, merciless boost he needed to throw off the unsuspecting soldier and scramble to draw his boot knife, throwing down harsh stab after stab to vital organs Red had shown him in the safety of their room and feeling them pop and disintegrate under his fingers.

Thick, sticky blood gushed over his gloves as the officer fought and screamed beneath him, trying to push Purple away with a feeble kick to the stomach to no avail. When Purple finally pulled off, he immediately tore his gaze away from the disgusting, gut-wrenching agony of painful death he had wrought, shakily working off his gloves when he felt the warm rush of blood beginning to seep through them to his skin. He let them drop to the ground and spotted his rifle, swaying on unsteady feet as he stooped to grab it, following after his troop and attempting to forget the carnage stealing what was left of his precious innocence.

Murder.

It…he…that officer.

That _Irken_.

Blood. So much blood.

"Pur, baby, talk to me!" Red yelled again, grunting out his frustrations when the sound of something heavy and mechanical slammed into his ship thousands of miles away.

"Fuck…f-fuck…." Purple breathed back, sprinting to keep up with his battalion as they waded through line after line of Elite offensive maneuvers and heavy fire, bodies dropping like nothing and crippling shattered joints and tendons. "R-Red? Oh, Irk….it…it's….I don't…"

Red shushed him softly, attempting to soothe his frayed nerves with stupid pet names to no avail. "Honey, listen to me very carefully." He said slowly, trying to make sense of Purple's incoherent babbling. "What is going on?"

Purple gave a shout of surprise when someone forced him to the ground, barely dodging a blistering bolt of plasma before they fumbled to their feet and fired back on impulse. He pressed the hard stock of his rifle to his shoulder and knelt, finally beginning to recollect himself through the harsh ringing in his antennae and force his head back into the ferocious game they were playing as he squinted through his scope and fired across the street to the next wave of Pem's fanatical army.

"T-They ambushed us!" He responded, wincing when his unsteady aim actually connected with the shoulder of his target and took him down. "We're off course! I-I'm gonna try to break through the first line of defense and re-route us back towards the Spike of Judgement!"

"Do you need me to come down there?!" Red's voice was determined and steadfast, ready to blow a hole in anyone who dared lay a hand on his beautiful partner.

At the sincerity, Purple allowed himself a shaky smirk, firing again. "No. Stay up there and do what you're best at." He pulled back, grimacing when he accidentally grabbed the searing hot casing of the plasma coil housed in his rifle. "Just find Pem and take him down."

* * *

**The chaotic skies above Judgementia;**

"You got it!" Red responded with a grin, reaching up and readjusting his Inquisitorian pilot's visor before wading back through the insane cloud of zooming Spittle Runners and Shuuver zipping and spiraling out of control around them.

Teem sat in the command chair next to him, running over reports as she hummed jovially to herself and checked feverishly to make sure their core remained stable and didn't overheat. "Sir, report from the engineering deck. Captain Lard Nar is requesting permission to take Shuuver One into battle to scout for Commander Pem's personal Ripper." She said rapidly, glancing up with a ruthless grin when Red took out another cannon and giggling when it combusted. "Irk, I missed seeing you out on the battlefield where you belong, you demon."

"Yeah, yeah, keep it in your pants. You have a wife." Red grumbled teasingly, scanning the chaos for any sign of their enemy's bright violet ship. Surprisingly, he was nowhere to be seen, hiding somewhere just out of sight like a meat-thirsty Hogulus waiting to pounce on it's unsuspecting prey. He reached up and flipped through channels in his visor until he heard the telltale flick of a lighter ring out in the background. "Lard Nar. Get out there and run recon on the far side of the planet. I want you to find Pem and blow him out of the atmosphere. Got it?"

"Yes, Commander." Lard Nar piped up resolutely, voice dripping with adrenaline-fueled excitement after having the liberty of being able to chase down the one being in their universe that had destroyed his life. "Should I take him as a hostage, sir?"

Red wanted to laugh at the formality, leaning back in his pilot's seat and guiding the ship skillfully out of the relentless tractor beam of another enemy Viral Tank attempting to breach their hull. "What do you think?" He chuckled, laying waste to the pathetic excuse for a pilot brave enough to take on such a powerful ace.

"Sure thing, kid." Lard Nar smoothed over with a laugh of his own before ending the transmission and prepping for takeoff.

It didn't take long for Red to spot his companion's sturdy Shuuver rocketing off into the heat of the battle, ceaselessly going after anyone cocky enough to mosey into his flightpath, annihilating tiny Spittle Runners to dust before slingshoting expertly around the planet to hunt down the Vortian menace commanding their once precious Armada. It was depressing, sickening, and utterly heartbreaking to see the glory of their beautiful fleet die and burn violently at their own hands, but Red couldn't come up with another possible way to get through to the Control Brains and destroy them. Without the IRM and the Inquisitorian Fleet patrolling and risking their lives in the sky, Purple would undoubtedly face cannon fire from above and never make it to the Spike of Judgement like they had planned. Red felt his pulse skip as the sound of Purple's desperate, war-ravaged voice rang back through his mind and set his integrity in knots. What was he seeing? Who had he killed? Was he hurt? Red knew his partner wouldn't say anything if he was; he wouldn't risk the operation or pulling Red out of the pilot's seat for something as trivial as a flesh wound, but that still worried him to the core and beyond at the thought of his soft lover forcing himself on through the streets as he bled. Purple wasn't ready for this, and he never would be. He was an aristocrat at heart, a beautiful, bubbly aerospace mechanic with an incredible aptitude with numbers and machinery, not with sharp knives and hot, rapid-fire pistols. That was who Red was, not who Purple was, and he would give anything to exchange positions with his partner if it meant preserving his glorious innocence and keeping his fragile psyche in one piece.

_Come on, Red. I'm tough! Give me some credit, here._

Red held back a tiny chuckle when the sound of Purple's sarcastic tone bounced through his PAK and radiated up into his memories, reminding him to have more faith in his lover. He had once told Red he wasn't made of glass, and Red had no choice but to let him prove himself once and for all…and hope he didn't shatter into a million pieces.

"Sir! A Ripper on the horizon!" Teem practically threw everything from her lap as she shot up out of her seat, jabbing furiously towards the skyline as a lumbering ship finally surfaced from the impenetrable clouds and shot up into the atmosphere. "That's him, Red!"

"What? Where?!" Red frantically scanned the sky, finally locking on to the sleek, rounded frame of the bulky command ship guiding the entire brutal front. He swallowed his sudden exhilaration and scanned the exoskeleton through his visor, looking for any sign that Pem was indeed aboard the Ripper in question and nearly screaming when he ran his wild gaze over two disgusting, beady green eyes bobbing and darting in the pilot's seat. "Yes! Teem, take over!" He ordered, jumping up and tearing from the bridge. "Lock on to his ping and radio in when you find out where he's going and don't let him out of your sight!"

Teem saluted with a bloodthirsty excitement and ravenous fervor to maim that quickly swept over her and radiated outwards over the expectant bridge. "You heard the man! Get those coordinates and let's take this bastard down!"

Red held his breath when the hatch shut behind him, the sound of boisterous, insatiable cheering and chanting fading as he took the transport pod to the belly of the ship, prying it open and making for his own personal, cherry-red Shuuver to follow Lard Nar into the thick of the devastating war raging outside. He was ready, itching for the hatred, thirsty for the screams and the scent of fear invading his windshield from afar as his enemies cried out their last words at his ruthless hand. They deserved to die, every last one of them, for what they had done to him and Purple in the past months. Pem deserved to suffer for throwing Red on trial and stripping him of everything he had worked himself into the ground for. Every permanent scar, every salty drop of sweat, every stream of mind-numbing sedative injected into his bloodstream during his depression-fueled addiction would finally be worth it. He would be free…no…_they_ would be free. Red would be Tallest again and Irk would be his for the first time.

The dock crew scrambled to ready his ship when they saw him coming, kicking up landing gear and removing engine covers as Red popped the main hatch and threw himself down in the pilot's seat of his one-Irken death machine. Irk, he missed this. It took him back to better times at the height of his career, taking planets and ravaging cities without a care in the world. Maybe…maybe this is where he was meant to be. Behind the thrusters of a one-seater ship with hundreds of heavy weapons at his disposal, the fate of lives hanging in his claws; this was a dream. This was _his_ dream, and exactly where he wanted to be for the rest of his life.

Huh.

He'd never really thought about how miserable he had been with his job until now, stuck behind desks doing mundane paperwork and throwing out under planned speeches he didn't have any personal interest in. The status and infinite respect of being Tallest was to die for, but he still had an edge over anyone shorter than he was as a Commander. Out here, he could feel the shudder of the hot friction outside and hear the hum of a glorious plasma core beneath his feet as he hit the throttle and took on any and everything that moved. Red was many things. He was a loving partner, a secret booklover, a sweets junkie, a recovering drug addict, and an explosive mess with a bad temper. He hated children, despised romantic comedy films, and had fallen in love with his best friend. But, under every multi-faceted layer of his identity, he was a pilot, and a damn good one at that. Red smiled to himself, finally coming to terms with what that meant for his future and his reign as Tallest. He would no longer be passive; he would be a warrior on the front lines with his people, fighting for what he wanted most.

"Pur, my crew has visual on Pem. Kez is attempting to lock on to his tracking systems now." He powered on his intimidating core, letting it warm as his ship was guided into place by the skilled eyes of the dock crew. "I can't sit back and do nothing. I'm going after him with Lard Nar."

Red winced at the sound of constant, excruciating gunfire ringing in his antennae, followed by the guttural screaming of a voice he recognized from training. He panicked a moment when Purple didn't respond, considering ditching the whole effort together and mounting a rescue mission before that familiar, whiny voice piped up with his familiar cynicism.

"You sure it's not just because you wanna show off?"

Red let himself slump back with a sigh of relief at the sweet, warming sound. "Irk, I hate you." He breathed affectionately with a lightened laugh, flipping his wide visor back down when the bay lights flashed, signaling him for takeoff.

"Hate you too, asshole!"

He punched the ignition as the bay door swung open, jetting out into the void of space and forcefully tearing his way across the cosmos of their justice sector. The irony was incredible…the very place where the hammer of the justice system slammed down upon unsuspecting life forms of all races and sizes would now serve as the final fight for a moral, righteous Irk. Red gritted his teeth in anticipation and leaned over the clutch as he tried to spot the messy Vortian symbol painted over the hull of Lard Nar's ship, spotting him with keen eyes and speeding off to meet him.

"Red, we have a problem!" Teem's voice screamed out without warning, deafening him to the onslaught and forcing him to dial back the volume.

He blinked away his surprise, catching sight of his companion before swerving dangerously around a sparking engine floating aimlessly in his wake. "What do you mean a problem?" He asked with mounting urgency, falling in line with Lard Nar and flashing him a thumbs up through the glass, satisfied when he nodded wordlessly in return. "Did you lock on to Pem's signal?"

There was a short pause followed by a nervous whine as Teem attempted to figure out how to break open the next round of Red's intrusive, blistering anger. "Eh…sort of." She squeaked out tentatively. "He's…um…he's in warp."

Red nearly came unglued, slamming his hands down hard on the dash with a shout of horrible, blood-curdling rage. Warp? How could this have happened?! "What do you mean he's in _warp_?!" He barked furiously, reaching up and swatting crossly at the computer when it sensed the alarming spike in his blood pressure and attempted to lower an atmospheric respirator to him. "How could you let him get away, you idiot?! I asked you to do one thing, Teem, _one_!"

"You know, if you're gonna talk to me like that, I'll go after him myself and leave your sorry ass in the dust! I kept an eye on him and he used jump codes! What am I supposed to do, extend my damn arms into space and choke him to death from forty miles away, you piece of shit?!" Teem screamed back with an irate huff. Red heard her screech in frustration and chuck the communicator across the room in a tantrum, growling when it collided with something hard with a resounding thump.

"Teem? I swear to Irk if you don't pick up that transmitter right now, I'll-" Red stopped himself short when someone else scooped up the device, taking a deep, seething breath and forcing himself to be respectful for everyone's sake.

"Sir, I am _so_ sorry!" Kez stumbled nervously over her words as she fumbled out a quick apology. "I'll talk to her about her anger issues, I promise!"

"I don't care!" Red snapped vociferously, narrowing his eyes at his Vortian college a few feet to the side as he shrugged. "Just tell me where Pem's going!"

There was an audible swallow, followed by the anxious click of petite claws smoothing over the metal of the communicator. "Well…he's headed to Vort, sir." Kez finally breathed. "We locked on to his signal and it looks like he's going to a prison just outside of the capitol city of Hatalca."

This time it was Lard Nar who piped up, leaning over the dash with wide eyes and a slack jaw. "Which prison?" He asked almost demanded in his earnest, shooting Red a flustered glance through the window as he grappled with the bizarre, unnerving turn of events. "I asked which prison!"

Papers shuffled on the other end as Kez read over her communications strip pouring from the wide mouth of her massive computer. "Um…looks like he's targeting Vortian Prison Camp 4, sir." She finally said, voice dripping with perplexity. "I don't understand. That camp has been abandoned for cycles."

Red didn't have time to question Pem's shady motives. After months of grueling training and waiting for him to resurface, they couldn't lose him now. "Lard Nar set your jump coordinates for Hatalca!" He ordered. "We're going in!"

* * *

**The ground front on Judgementia;**

Had Purple just heard that right? Red was heading to _Vort_? This whole battle was beginning to make his head spin with the disturbing nonsense unfolding in their quickly slipping grasp. None of it made any sense; Pem was a fleet commander. Of course, he had the authority to leave his men behind but why would he run and cower in a war as decisive as this? Something wasn't adding up.

"Red, you said he's going to Vort?" He asked, pressing his back to a sharp corner before peeking ever so slightly around to measure how many soldiers he was up against. Dammit! The Spike of Judgement was still so far and Pem's forces were still flooding the streets! Did it ever end?! "Why is he heading that far out?"

"I don't know! Just shut up and let me think!" Red growled back as he fumbled with switches and forced his ship to shudder its way into overdrive. "I'm going to try and-"

Static.

Huh?

"Red?" Purple breathed, blinking in sudden confusion and reaching up, rapidly clicking at the communicator in his goggles. "Red, where are you?"

A strident, overpowering explosion sounded in the distance, sending out an impenetrable shockwave that had Purple squinting and petrified against the building as tiny bits of sharp shrapnel and debris caught the wind and sliced through delicate bruised skin and chipped at powerful armor. A searing tidal wave of insufferable heat flooded the street as the low moan of something molten and ominous groaned from the sky, freezing everyone in their tracks with terrified eyes as they realized what had happened. A 700-foot communications tower shuddered and crumpled as its foundations split and jerked, careening backwards and slicing through the air like a knife as it tumbled, shaking the ground with a strident, thunderous boom as it finally collided with the reinforced wall of the massive skyscraper towering above the battalion. Glass sprayed and rained down as hundreds of windows shattered, forcing Purple to yelp and sprint out of the way on unstable PAK legs as framework and steel threatened to contort and ruin everything it touched. A thick cloud of unbreathable dust settled over his team, drawing heavy, lung-stinging coughs from his rapidly diminishing force and stinging unprotected eyes as they scrambled to find one another in the hideously dazzling smokescreen, screaming blindly when two bars detached from the tower and came tumbling down. Luckily, Purple had been wise enough to wear his goggles as he hacked violently and jumped free from the path of the crushing weight, trying to rid his dry mouth of the filthy taste of charred titanium and plastic explosives. Pull it together! Reassess the situation! He reeled himself back in and squinted up against the light, watching in horror as the gargantuan cables weaved through the mesh frame of the tower combusted, spreading through the immediate building and lighting abandoned floors ablaze as the twisted steel lurched once more, sliding and scraping against the long shaft of the building and threatening ominously to crush anyone waiting in the street below. The Elite had taken out the only communications tower for miles, cutting his team off from immediate reinforcements and medical transport. They were officially flying blind and there was no way for Purple to contact Red. He began to panic again as dread overcame him, frantically searching for survivors as the veil settled and revealed the incredible damage Pem's military had done to his remaining team. Over twenty bodies lay crushed and mangled beyond recognition under the impressive tons of weight that had collided with their unknowing forms, splattering them over the street like they were made of gelatin. Bright blue Inquisitorian blood trickled and swirled against the vivid pink of Irkens Purple had come to know personally, all shattered and obliterated in an instant like they were nothing. He slumped hard against the wall as a sudden dizziness hit him and he recognized the glint of three small toolbelts strung amongst the heaps of battered flesh and crushed PAKs screeching out horrific warnings in unison. They had lost their other mechanics. Purple was the only one left.

That did it. Purple stabilized himself against the mangled building, gagging when the smell of metallic blood wafted nauseatingly over his antennae. He took a gulp of iron-laden air and willed himself to calm, trying to find an anchor to focus on in the devastation to keep himself from doubling over and getting sick from the gory slaughter. Others pulled themselves up with groans and pained whines as the Elite rounded the corner in formation and were on them again, not giving them any chance to recover from the disturbing horrors they had just witnessed. At the sight of such a crisp, clean troop laying into his faction, Purple felt his rage spike in a way that nearly blinded him with the undying need to get his people out of the firefight. They were ruining everything, taking everything he had worked for in minutes and throwing it away like it was rotting candy. He couldn't let Pem's men overtake their operation before they reached the Spike of Judgement. He swept the crowd a final time, cursing vehemently under his breath when he noticed he only had about 25 soldiers left under his belt to command, a meager, pathetic number compared to Pem's thousands. He would have to play this right and get his people out of the alleyway before they were eaten alive while taking out as many of the Elite as he possibly could. But…how?

Suddenly, Purple felt an idea come on and he glanced back up, hastily scrutinizing the angle at which the destroyed tower had come to rest against the building. It was barely hanging on, hooked by a single beam into the precarious, rapidly burning floor of one of the toppling levels. If he could find a way to blow the tower free, he could crush the entire Elite battalion beneath its weight and give everyone a chance to reroute to the Spike. That might work. It was crazy, but it might work.

"Fall back!" Purple cried out with a wave, guiding what remained of his team behind the remains of a destroyed street corner. "Take cover until further orders!"

As soon as he spotted the glinting visor of his limping demolitions expert leaning on the shoulder of their only medic across the heavily swamped street, Purple groaned, terrified he had to rely on someone so volatile and untrained to potentially save their entire mission. He dodged the incoming slew of plasma shots, ducking against walls and thick light posts to provide cover for those attempting to escape, proud when he actually made contact with a stout officer between the eyes for an instantaneous end.

As soon as the medic was in reach, Purple extended his hand and grabbed him, ushering the two across to where the rest of their pathetic battalion huffed against the frigid steel, aches and pains finally presenting themselves in full force as they calmed enough to notice them. Steel poked from deep open wounds, a stout Inquisitorian held a trembling hand over his now empty eye socket as he rocked, and several razed bodies had been recovered, limbs and antennas severed from the heavy steel as they stared blankly up at nothing. Purple had to restore moral and he had to do it fast.

"Listen up!" He shouted over the explosions and the roar of boots slowly encroaching through the thoroughfare. "I have a plan to get us out of this and back on track to the Spike of Judgement! I-"

"W-What's the point?!" A petrified Inquisitorian woman shivered against an exhausted group of Irkens, caked with now dried blood and streaked with horrified tears. "W-We're all gonna die here! Let's forget about the Control Brains and retreat!"

There were a few shell-shocked agreements, but Purple refused to give up, slinging his rifle over his shoulder before he felt his confidence spike once more. "I know we've lost over half the team, but we can't give up now! If we leave, they win!" He jabbed a finger out to the street, pushing his desperation to the side as his need to take back what was rightfully his boiled in the pit of his stomach. "I want my planet back and if you're not gonna help me, I'll have to take it back myself!"

He reached out for the demolitions expert, earning a frightened squeak when he stripped his belt from around his waist and threw it under his arm.

"C-Commander, where are you going?!"

Purple didn't listen, bracing himself to run and enjoying the delicious second rush of serotonin and norepinephrine coursing through his veins as his PAK's medical system accelerated to combat his extreme stress. "Just cover me and keep the Elite in position!" He ordered.

"S-sir, what position are you talking about?!"

Purple smirked and took a final sharp inhale. "You'll see."

With that, Purple dashed out into the street. Immediately, the Elite opened fire, screaming and clawing their way over what remained of their devastating handiwork on the jumbled spire, stepping in unison as they made their way across the blood bathed boulevard towards where the rest of the team laying in wait. To Purple's relief, the troop returned fire, allowing him enough time to stumble dexterously out of harm's way and duck with a pant behind the corner of the shuddering building barely supporting his target. He needed to find a way inside. On a whim, he knelt and readjusted his goggles, throwing out his PAK lasers and setting to work digging a deep gash into the framework of the foundation, searing and throwing sparks as he melted thick steel and shorted wiring, digging in with his bare hands to brush fluffy insulation out of the way before shoving an arm through. Dammit! Not good enough. He set back to work, yelping when a lanky soldier popped unexpectedly around the corner and charged him. This time Purple didn't hesitate, thrusting the hot barrel of his rifle in the unfortunate Irken's face and pulling the trigger with an enraged shout, shrinking back at the telltale hiss of tinnitus in his blown-out antennae and the warm, wet splash against his cheek and chest. He didn't have time to be repulsed, wiping his face and streaking blood down across his jaw before taking another shaky breath as he furiously worked on cutting his way into the building, finally dissolving the metal just enough for him to clamor through and fall to the scorched tile inside. He coughed in the smoke and brought a hand to his mouth, pushing up and looking for any way to get up to the final support bar holding the quivering mess of titanium and wires perilously in position. Finally, he spotted what looked like the remnants of a stairway engulfed in a raging inferno, rolling his eyes behind his goggles as he reluctantly psyched himself up for the deadly trek. Why did he always end up slogging through flames?

Purple held his breath and extended himself up on his PAK legs, toiling to find purchase through the fumes and make his way up the winding staircase to his destination. It hurt, curling flames singing and biting ferociously at his shins through the silver of his luxurious armor, heating his skin to near unbearable temperatures. Still, he kept on, driven forward by his own exhaustion and infuriation at having been pummeled and beaten down for so long by the machines he used to call his leaders. With each floor conquered, he kept reminding himself through the blistering discomfort that it would be him to take the Control Brains offline. _He_ would destroy them and usher in a new era of Irken dominance in the universe. _He_ would forge an impenetrable Empire as the all-knowing, all-powerful leader his subjects could finally look up to. _He_ would make it through this horrendous disaster of a society and come out holding Red's hand up for the cheering masses.

Red.

Hopefully, he was having a better time finding his target.

* * *

**The deep reaches of Vortian space;**

Red gripped at his armrest as his ship finally careened to a stop, Lard Nar not far behind. He had lost communication with Purple a while ago, and it was making him incredibly nervous for, not only the integrity of their entire mission, but the integrity of their future together. Lard Nar had furiously reminded him that warp messed with the electromagnetic signals pouring off of the ship and that Purple was tough enough to take care of himself. Red wasn't so sure, but he didn't have a choice. They had to find Pem, and they had to find him quick.

Hatalca was desolate and frosty, a disintegrating, apocalyptic scene as they brought themselves to glide tentatively over the once bustling metropolis of Vortian ingenuity. Lard Nar had averted his despairing gaze and refused to speak the entire way to Vortian Prison Camp 4, following Red's lead when he threw out his landing gear and slowly descended to the rotting, crumbling surface of the dying world. They didn't waste time, throwing on formless bubble helmets against the thin atmosphere and grabbing for pistols and rifles before throwing open hatches and making the short walk to the abandoned prison Pem seemed to be wholly infatuated with. It was strange, eerie even, with its rusted-out walls and once formidable security gate, now easily surmounted with a swift climb and short jog to the main entrance. Red was incredibly apprehensive as Lard Nar pried open the grimy main door, forcing it aside and holding it in place just long enough for them to squeeze through into the dark before it slammed shut behind them with a metallic clank. The inside of the disgusting, dusty prison was even worse; creatures of all species and size skittering about as Lard Nar clicked on the blinding light of his goggles and clutched firmly at his rifle, never straying too far from Red's authoritarian presence for solace in the one place he had hoped he would never have to come back to. Beady eyes darted through the shadows and tiny faces turned curiously up to their visitors as they craned to examine the peculiar intruders they had never seen, rushing off in a jumble of flailing legs and padding feet as soon as they strayed too close.

Red kept his breathing and his pulse level, sweeping the area as he was used to and finding comfort in the routine, taking short, careful steps and testing the floor's integrity before shifting his weight forward to follow the fresh trail of diminutive footprints cutting through the filth. Red would recognize them anywhere; standard issue Irken Elite combat boots. Pem was here, and he was hiding. But…why? Red still hadn't figured out what this whole charade was about. Why had Pem taken them to someplace so insignificant and out of the line of fire if he wasn't secretly plotting something dastardly in the murky sidelines? Lard Nar seemed just as uneasy, glaring down at the telltale set of prints as they followed it through the revoltingly familiar doorframes once holding him captive and torturing him into submission.

Red made a soft noise in the back of his throat to break the tension, feeling like he somehow wasn't allowed in a place like this after having fought so vehemently against Vortian rebels in the war. "Eh…so. This is where you escaped from?" He began unenthusiastically, squinting past his rifle and refusing to take his piercing gaze off of the hallway in front of him.

"Yes." Lard Nar said simply, hands wrapped tightly around the grip of his pistol as he stepped around years of old paperwork and broken-down readers, panting softly through the fear of old memories resurfacing in his mind. "My old cell was in this block."

"Your cell?" Red frowned, eyeing the dimly lit holding chambers closely past their corroded bars with a shudder. Irk, this place was creepy. He paused, blinking when he noticed the tracks leading into one of the open cells down the hall. Lard Nar noticed as well, looking up and bringing a finger to his lips in excited, unbearable tension. Finally. Finally, this would be over. With Pem out of the way, Lard Nar would avenge his fallen love and his brother and Red would be able to rake through the Armada with ease without the firm voice of their insane Commander there to guide their obedient little minds. They crept forward at a snail's pace, inching along and stopping at every tiny noise, antennae and horns curling back and tasting the air for any signs of movement. Red held his breath when he picked up on the rush of an irregular pulse from within the dark followed by the ragged sound of heavy breathing from behind shaky fingers, moving his forefinger to his trigger as he prepped for the final, thrilling confrontation.

Just a little more.

Just a little more and they could end this.

Lard Nar pressed himself to the outside edge of the frame, glancing up at Red for the signal he needed to tear into the flesh of his arch nemesis and bathe in his blood like he had been dreaming about for months, eyes alight with a determined fury. Red braced himself and stared back before licking his lips and giving a curt nod.

Three.

Two.

One.

Lard Nar went first with a strident battle cry, throwing himself into the cell and illuminating the gaunt face of the beast that had been stalking him for cycles and undermining the building blocks of everything he loved. He tossed his pistol to the side and used his hands, followed quickly by Red who watched in awe as the irate Vortian pinned him to the ground and threw hectic, well-placed punches, pummeling him into the dust as Pem tried to shield his face. Lard Nar didn't let him, forcing away his feeble hands as he dug his sharp claws into his throat and squeezed, earning a strangled choke from his target before he was hit directly in the stomach by the hard toe of his enemy's boot. Pem yelled something and kicked him off completely, making for the cell door and barely grabbing it to pull it shut before Lard Nar was on him again, once again wrapping his hands around his neck and strangling him against the filthy walls of the place their demented story had begun.

"This if for Urb Yen and Slad Nuch and the millions of Vortians you almost killed you monster!" Lard Nar screamed, finally choking his enemy out as he thrashed and kicked, sputtering to a stop and hanging limply against the wall as his face flashed a disturbing shade of strangled blue. Lard Nar sniffed through his irate tears and pulled back, clenching his razor-sharp teeth and throwing out a hard hand. "Give me my pistol, Red."

Red blinked in shock at the sudden rage, not wanting to argue and passing his enflamed friend the pistol Purple had taken off of Urb Yen nearly eight months in the past, watching when Lard Nar gave another thick sniff and ran his fingers over Urb Yen's tiny signature on the casing. Red respectfully averted his gaze and turned his back, letting Lard Nar land the final blow and finally come to some semblance of closure to their whole appalling, involuntary, manic relationship. A few seconds passed and Red squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for the strident boom that would inevitably paint Lard Nar's old cell with the glorious color of victory, but…it never came. Slowly, Red lowered his rifle and relaxed his grip, allowing his crimson eyes to flutter back open as he scrunched up his face in confusion. Why didn't he just end it already?

When a few more seconds passed and no shot rang out, he sighed in irritation, wanting to get back in range of Judgementia and finally hear his partner's voice again. "Would you just get on with it already? If you won't shoot him, I will." Red spun on his heel and froze when he noticed Lard Nar had peeled away the gauntlet disguising Pem's ferocious Vortian form. Only…the flaccid body under the hologram wasn't Vortian.

Lard Nar stood, dropping the gauntlet to the ground with a dumbfounded gawk, running his tiny yellow eyes over the face of a young, gullible Irken pilot with deep violet bruises blossoming around his petite neck. He was dressed in Pem's personal command suit and belt, completely baffling the two as they stared at his pale, boneless face.

It wasn't…It wasn't Pem?

Finally, Red understood. He turned and frantically made his way to the bars, reaching out and giving a sharp tug with a shout of frustration, gripping tighter and throwing all of his weight against the cruel, tarnished lock. When it didn't budge, he panicked, throwing out his PAK lasers and attempting to ruthlessly cut through the reinforced metal with brute force to no avail. They held fast, the picture of powerful Irken engineering and security now holding them firm in the cell Lard Nar had suffocated in all those cycles ago. Pem had planned it from the start; the ambush over Judgementia, the ground assault that destroyed Purple's troop, the false cat and mouse chase to Vort. All of it to get Red and Lard Nar out of the way so they could lay waste to the skies and ruin Purple's offensive on the surface. Red slumped down in shock next to Lard Nar who had thrown off his goggles and buried his face in his hands as he broke down and sobbed. There was no way out of here and the only Irkens that knew they were here were millions of miles away stuck in a cold-blooded dogfight that was ripping them to shreds. Red dropped his rifle and stared up at the ceiling in crushing defeat, feeling his blood run cold at their damming stupidity, before a terrifying, soul-splitting thought careened through his spooch like a gunshot, forcing him to his feet and back to the bars. Purple didn't know. He tugged and thrashed, yelling out into the darkness and desperate for any way to get out and save the one Irken he wanted to be with. The IRM and Inquisitoria had become the prey to the horrendous predator they had been stalking for months and their plan was quickly crumbling to a pathetic pile of dust.

There was no telling where Pem was now, or what he was planning.

* * *

**The surface of Judgment;**

Purple stumbled across the floor with a wheeze of a pant, groaning at the terrible sting in his toes as he worked off one of his half-melted boots and tossed it carelessly across the heat warped floor. He was singed and blistered, his PAK quickly setting to work healing his raw, damaged skin as he forced himself to stand and unevenly make his way up the sloping tile to where the communications tower was barely hanging on to the building's rickety framework. He clutched precariously at the broken out window frame, filling his smoldering lungs with the sweet, crisp air of the Judgementian winter before glancing down to the chaos ensuing in the streets hundreds of feet below. His team had done an incredible job keeping the two-hundred strong force of Elite power smack dab in the middle of the thoroughfare, directly under the hideously tangled mess of titanium and steel threatening to topple down on them at a moment's notice.

He coughed and stooped to the heavy beam, gripping it before pulling out the demolition's belt from under his arm. It was a wonder the explosives hadn't gone off in the heat, but Purple had been incredibly lucky, pulling sticky globs of plastic explosives from the side pouch and tacking them on to the metal in disorganized heaps, every once in a while leaning back to admire his work. Hopefully it would be enough. He pulled out a short roll of wax fuse, biting it hard with his teeth and tugging it apart before shoving it in the clay and stepping back several feet to create a makeshift timebomb. He blinked in the frigid wind and dug through the other canvas pouches, pulling out a ridiculous, decorative plasma lighter with a smirk. He would have only a few seconds to make it back to the staircase before he would be trapped in the residual blowback of the blast, but it would be infinitely worth it if he could take out such a formidable force and finally move his troop to the Spike of Judgement.

Purple popped the top of the lighter and flicked it, holding his breath and bringing it to the frayed end of the fuse. Here goes nothing.

"Well, isn't this fun?"

A soft voice cackled from behind, forcing Purple's eyes to shoot wide in shock as he dropped the lighter in surprise, fumbling to scoop it up from amidst the growing layer of ash littering the ground. He gripped at his rifle and spun on his heel, cutting his bare toes on the jagged glass and wincing when he locked eyes with the familiar lime green stare he had come to loathe.

For the first time since his flashback, Purple got a good look at the sickening, revolting face of the Vortian rebel plaguing his life and his once beautiful Empire. He was small and gangly with a disconcertingly sharp bone structure that could cut at someone's personality like a spade. His eyes were wider and rounder than any other Vortian he had ever seen, but still puny, two orbs set in deep sockets staring back with a unemotional, cruel exhilaration that made Purple's skin crawl in the worst of ways. His pale horns curled forward, hanging limply over his head and swaying tenderly in the freezing breeze like leaves on a foul-smelling Vort tree. His face was horrendously soft and sweet, providing a nerve-wracking contrast to the long, black, Vortian military coat draped around his diminutive form.

Pem laughed warmly and glanced down at Purple's long rifle with a wide, toothy grin. His eyes lit up with a childlike excitement and he clapped his hands together, wringing his fingers expectantly. "Would you look at you!" He giggled lightly, taking a step forward with an impressed nod. "You've come so far since we last met! I've been watching your progress on Inquisitoria and a little Irken told me you're still a bad shot."

Purple didn't know what to say, utterly confused and baffled that Pem was on the planet and not in the skies with his partner. He had been watching their training? Did he have a spy on Inquisitoria? Who…who was Red chasing with Lard Nar? Was Red alright? Was the fleet winning? Too many sickening questions flooded Purple's mind all at once and he shook them away with a subdued, shaky growl, lowering himself ominously and prepping to blow the egotistical brain of his enemy all over the far wall. Pem took a sudden skip of a step, causing Purple to yelp in fear and squeeze the trigger, freezing when his rifle sputtered and died in his grip. Pem curled his lip and leaned forward on his toes, his jacket fluttering open and revealing his own pistol as he examined the rifle. Purple's perplexed gaze vaulted between his weapon and the sadistic menace stalking towards him, fumbling with the safety and trying to figure out why it was stalling.

"Huh. Looks like the heat fried your plasma coil." Pem pointed out with an almost scientific scrutiny before his balmy smile flooded back. "Neat!"

"Shut up!" Purple cried furiously, taking a few steps back and reaching for his pistol, throwing the petite gun in front of him when Pem threw his arms wide as if to taunt him. "Call off your men! Don't make me shoot you!"

Pem shrugged and ran his tongue over his teeth. "You know, I don't think you have the guts to kill me." He teased softly with a snort of a giggle, taking another step and forcing Purple further back to the window. "Plus, you have the safety on. I don't think you'll be ripping out many of my organs like _that_."

Purple swallowed and willed his heavy breathing to calm as he reached up and flipped the tiny switch, watching in unnerved irritation as Pem nodded leisurely, his expression darkening to something profound and menacing.

"There you go." He whispered almost affectionately, taking yet another tiny step and softening his strident gaze to one of sympathetic sorrow. "Do it. End the monster your Empire created." He breathed, smile fading when his voice ghosted Purple's antennae. "Take me out of my misery and send me back to my wife and daughter."

"I don't care about your stupid family!" Purple barked, gasping when he remembered the lighter in his other hand. "Y-You know what?"

Pem eyed him eagerly, running his filthy gaze the length of Purple's long torso and back up to rest on his blood-streaked face. "Yes?" He asked simply, unconcerned when Purple dropped the pistol and held up the lighter, bending slowly and threatening to set his improvised explosive alight and take them both down. "I wouldn't do that, tall guy." He warned jokingly.

"Why not?"

"Because you'll regret it."

"Regret watching you burn? I don't think so."

"Well, if you wanna play, I guess I can make things more interesting!"

Purple was growing tired of the flippant sneer hiding behind Pem's overly jovial words. He narrowed his eyes with a victory smile, ready to jump from the window and extend his PAK legs at a moment's notice and watch Pem scream and cry as the heat of the blast melted the disgusting grey skin from his tiny bones. "Irk, your voice is annoyi-"

Bang.

Purple froze mid-sentence. He let the lighter slip from his grip as his hands flew instinctively to his abdomen, a strange, peaceful cold overcoming him and shrouding him in muffled realization. His breathing slowed as he gave a long, uncoordinated blink, swaying slightly where he stood before finding the strength to pull back his fingers, running his fading vision over the fresh, pink blood staining his hands and oozing lazily to the dusty floor between his feet. Blood? Why…why blood? What….? He couldn't hear. Everything moved in slow motion when he coughed and sputtered, blood bubbling up in the back of his throat and cascading down his chin to stain his armor.

Pem had shot him.

"I always thought that armor was faulty. There's a little seam right under your chest plate that's weaker than the rest of the construction. You'd think the designers would have caught that." Pem pointed out, bounding forward and gripping Purple by the collar, dragging him down hard as his reasoning faded and he struggled to say something but choked on his own fuzzy cognition. "Oh well! You were always the stupid one. Always hiding in the shadow of that angry crimson menace." He breathed against Purple's drooping antennae as the color drained from his face and leaked to the floor in pools. Pem leaned in and pressed a light kiss to his stained cheek with an unnervingly compassionate giggle. "You should have shot me."

Purple labored to keep his footing when Pem shoved him hard through the windowpane, the last thing he saw before the weightlessness of the freezing air engulfed him and the cruel grip of gravity took him were two wide, green eyes and two sharp rows of narrow teeth giggling sweetly back at him.

Long live the Control Brains.

Long live the Vortian Empire.

* * *

Oh boy. Sorry that took a dark turn, but I like the dark! **Next update will be Sunday, October 27, 2019 at 10:00 pm CDT (UTC -5).** I love you honeys!


	21. A Life Lost, A Chance Gained

Hello, friends! Sorry to leave you hanging like that last chapter! I wanted to say thank you, because chapter 20 was our most viewed chapter in the shortest amount of time, which was honestly incredible! Thanks again for all of your continued support, and let's get back to war…and some more _flashbacks_! Dun, dun, dun! Haven't done those in a while now!

**TO REVIEWER GEN:** Of course you can make fanart for this fic! I would honestly be honored and humbled, you lovely, incredible angel! As long as you credit me as the author or link the story, you can do whatever you want! :) If you'd like, anyone needing to contact me who doesn't have an account here can contact me at **charlocatty on Instagram**. I'm the weird goth chick. Can't miss me! I can also link your art up here in my notes when it's done to give you some more art exposure because I love supporting all you wonderful people out there! Thank you so much!

**TO THE GUEST TALKING ABOUT WANTING DEATH**: I love a good angst fic too! I won't be killing off either Purple or Red in this one (BUT SOMEONE ELSE PROMINENT AND SWEET MIGHT KICK THE BUCKET), but if you'd like, I can create a specialized one shot or two shot for you and make it hella sad. I do take requests, and like I said you can either contact me here on this site through private message, anonymous review, or my Instagram! Thank you dear!  
**_UPDATE:_** I got the idea to write a really hella sad fic featuring assassination, so that will be up on my account on 10.28.2019, a day after this was written. Have a good night demented guest!  
**_DOUBLE UPDATE:_** It's now live and is called "The Shot Heard Around The World," and can be found on my fanfiction page if you click on my username. Hope you like!

**Chapter rated STRONG M for graphic depictions of blood/gore/violence, minor character death, past and present drug use, past suicide attempt, brief heavy language, derogatory homophobia and homophobic slander, smoking, and general adult themes. Wow. This is a GNARLY one.**

* * *

**An undefinable amount of time in the past;**

Purple grumbled to himself as he finally made his way to his table in the back of the mess hall, gingerly setting his tray down before removing his goggles completely and tossing them carelessly to the side. He didn't get paid again for a few days, and he'd just used the last of his meager paycheck to buy lunch. Figures. It would be another week of exchanging work in the docking bay for soggy sandwiches and stale candy bars no one wanted or sneaking down to the mess hall past midnight to pick the lock and make off with whatever he could grab before the guards noticed. At least none of the food service drones were smart enough to figure out who kept raiding their donut supply.

"Hey, tall mechanic." A haughty voice piped up from above, stopping Purple mid-chew as he refused to make eye contact. "Is this seat taken?"

Why?

The stupid, infuriating Commander always came around at least twice a month to ask the same aggravating questions. Purple's answers were always the same, and he had hoped the obvious annoyance dripping from his tongue would have been enough of a hint for Red to finally leave him alone, but he was consistently wrong. Every time their schedules lined up and they found themselves in the same unfortunate place at the same unfortunate time, Red sought him out and made his life a living hell for the next half-hour.

"Yeah, it's taken." Purple lied shortly. "Go bother someone else."

Red merely smiled and took his seat anyway, slamming his tray down in the vulgar way he always did before throwing his elbows up on the table like he owned the room. "You really should learn to make eye contact. You won't climb many ranks if they think you're nervous all the time." He pointed out rudely before taking a bite, grimacing, and setting his fork back on the table.

Purple held firm to his food with an exaggerated scowl, only briefly glancing up when Red looked away to leisurely admire a group of new female pilots sauntering in, giggling to themselves and toying with their curled antennae when they noticed him grinning in their direction. Weird. The informality of seeing Red in civilian clothes for the first time was uncomfortable. Purple had only ever seen him in his formal Elite uniform and the loose fabric of his day shirt and the incredible fit of his pilot's jacket showed off the sculpted definition he had trained cycles to achieve, only adding to Purple's immediate frustrations and making his mouth water on impulse. How could someone so awful be so intolerably attractive?

He blinked and turned away when Red finally pulled his attention back to the table, returning to his lunch but oddly refusing to eat. "So, how are things at the docks?" He asked uninterestedly, trying to warm the frigid atmosphere. "You get any good ships down there recently?"

"It's the docks; what do you think? Of course we got another ship." Purple took another bite, still refusing to make eye contact. Maybe if he held out long enough, Red would get irritated and leave like last time.

"What model?"

"None of your business."

"Actually, it is my business. I'm Spork's right hand and I need to know what's happening on my ship."

"_Your_ ship? Since when is the Massive _your_ ship?"

"Since I was promoted to second in command to our Tallest."

Purple nearly choked, slamming his fork down and finally snapping up to those disgustingly beautiful crimson orbs he loathed more than anything in the cosmos. Red had been promoted to Spork's personal advisor? How the hell had he managed that in such a short time? That meant he was in charge of all decision making when Spork wasn't around and had authority to command the entire Massive and the Armada if the need arose. But that was one step away from becoming…becoming…

"I'm officially in line to become Tallest." Red smirked as if he had read Purple's mind, leaning forward slightly and dropping his nasally voice to a whisper. "You're the first to find out, so don't tell anyone yet. I'm going for my PAK rank upgrades soon and then they'll send out the official announcement."

Purple didn't know what to say. The thought of having to serve under someone so immature, someone so ruthlessly bloodthirsty and itching to go to war, was almost sickening. Red would be a terrible Tallest. He could almost see it now; the arrogant bastard would slice his way by force across the star-system and take whatever he saw fit without ramifications, until every unfortunate planet was plastered with massive banners depicting his disgusting face. He'd probably be arrogant enough to have a whole line of fashion and smeet's toys made in his image.

"Oh. Good for you."

Red blinked in dissatisfaction, shrinking back with a frown when he didn't receive the jovial reaction he had wanted. He thought a moment before a false realization crossed his face. "Oh, I get it." He mused teasingly.

Don't humor him. If you hold out and take the high road, he'll go away.

"You're jealous!"

Dammit.

Purple took up his fork once more and continued to passive-aggressively stab at his food. "Why would I be jealous of a chauvinistic asshole with a god complex?" He asked loud enough for the surrounding tables to hear with a sarcastic smile. "Unlike you, some of us actually _like_ ourselves and don't feel the need to constantly show off for validation."

Red laughed but visibly bristled, his cheeks flushing with anger and a deeper, darker emotion Purple couldn't identify. "It's too bad you think that, mechanic." He grumbled, trying to remain composed when he faltered. "I was going to ask if you wanted to come with me to my PAK adjustments, but now I just wanna see you rot below deck like the filthy dock rat you are."

"At least I'll be-" Purple cut himself off when he realized what Red had imposed. "Wait, why do you want _me_ to come?"

Red's growing irritation died when he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. It was his turn to avoid eye contact as Purple searched his weary face, quickly becoming aware of the dark circles stamped beneath his eyes and the nervy twitch in his hands. Had he always looked this pale and exhausted? Was the job actually…getting to him? Purple quickly ran through his PAK memories for anything he could find about Red's famous career, stopping when he found a docket containing information about his personal fleet. He'd only ever commanded a troop of 500 or less, and with this promotion to the Armada, he was in charge of over 25,000 individuals at its peak. When Spork finally kicked it and Red ascended to the position, he would have to make critical decisions for _billions_. That was a significant jump for someone so used to going freelance, not to mention the incredible swathes of paperwork and constant torrent of readers that were probably being shoved in his face. Purple let himself refocus, narrowing his eyes suspiciously when Red ran a palm behind his neck and grew anxious about something he didn't understand. Was Red eating well or was he forgetting? Purple let his gaze trail down to his tray. He'd only taken one tiny bite. Was he sleeping enough at night? Probably not, judging by the uncharacteristic lack of focus behind his blurry ocular lenses. He still smelled nice and went as far as to continue using the cologne Purple secretly adored, so it was apparent that he was still taking care of his personal hygiene to some extent. But for how long? How long would it take for Red to break down completely and realize he had bitten off way more than he could chew and hightail it back to Naphrus where he came from? An irritation came over Purple when he realized the bizarre concern he felt for his distant colleague, quickly recollecting himself and pushing Red's peculiar behavior to the sidelines with a passive question.

"What's wrong with you?" He asked slowly, snapping Red out of whatever fugue state he had wandered into. "You're acting like…well…less of a prick. I don't like it."

The Commander immediately straightened up, pushing his tray back before standing and nervously rolling his shoulders. "What are you talking about? I'm fine!" He snapped suddenly, shoving his hands in the pockets of his pilot's bomber.

"I dunno…You don't _look_ fine. You look like you're gonna die or something."

"Are you coming or not?"

"Now?" Purple thought a moment, returning his gaze to his final meal and feeling the pangs of hunger already gnawing at his spooch. He couldn't let Red know this would be his last chance to eat well for a few days; he would never hear the end of it. "Eh…sorry. I have to eat and get back to the docks for work. Ask one of your pilot buddies to go." He decided on, hoping his halfhearted rouse to cover his dwindling financial situation stuck.

Red swallowed and clicked his teeth, visibly let down and attempting to hide it to the best of his ability, taking a few uncoordinated steps back before shrugging. There was something wrong, but Purple couldn't quite place his finger on what it was. Red was just…different. Like he didn't want to be alone but didn't know where to go, resorting to Purple as a last-ditch effort for…something.

_Something_.

He wasn't putting up much of a fight or attacking Purple's cheap choice of attire or his slouching posture. He wasn't complaining about how the dock crew had fictitiously scratched the pristine paint of his Ring Cutter or how the mess hall had ruined his smoothie with too little sugar. He was quiet and inert, choosing to walk away over hunting down his target, and that made Purple uncomfortable, like he was hiding an abnormal secret just beneath his skin. Purple didn't understand why this was such a big deal; Red had lots of followers. He could have literally picked anyone else to go with him, but he settled on a mechanic he barely knew personally and always seemed to pick some idiotic fight with to pump up his massive ego?

"Hey, it's your loss." Red shrugged again with a forced smirk. "I offered so when the crowds come after me when I'm Tallest and you're left in the dust it's not my problem."

With that he turned and abruptly left, finally giving Purple some peace of mind as he sighed in frustration. He shot a glance back to the tray Red had left behind before looking up and scanning the mess hall, reluctantly reaching out and scooting it over when he had determined no one was watching. Man...he had really sunk low, hadn't he?

At least Red had unknowingly paid for his dinner.

* * *

Several hours had passed into the night before Purple finally made his way to his quarters on the lower level, followed by his yawning roommate, Lar, and the soft clinking of his heavy toolbelt. It was dark by this time, hot steam pouring off of the hundreds of sweating pipes lining the ceiling and the warm glow of plasma radiators lighting their way. Down here it was always peaceful, a welcome shift to the constant whine of power drills and clanking of powerful tools against steel at the docks.

Well…usually peaceful.

"Emergency! Out of the way!"

"Clear the corridor, _now_!"

Purple grabbed Lar by the arm and forced him to the side as two medical drones tore past in a frenzy, still clothed in their nightgowns, screaming the entire way for civilians and workers alike to stay clear of their frantic path. What the hell? Purple glanced down to Lar who exchanged his look of confusion before they continued their leisure walk.

"What do you think that was about?" Lar asked when they finally reached their quarters, throwing open the hatch and kicking off their work boots as usual. "I haven't seen them that worked up since Spork was choking on that piece of candy last Probing Day."

Purple tried to hold back a snicker but couldn't, flicking on the lights and flopping down hard on their worn-out couch as it turned to a laugh. "Shut up, idiot! We're not supposed to talk about that." He gave his uniform a quick sniff, immediately repulsed by how terrible he smelled from a full day's work.

Lar's pink eyes lit up in amusement when he crossed to their pathetic excuse for a mini fridge, throwing it open to unhurriedly examine the frugal contents before pulling out the last sugar beer. "I'll bet he thinks he's having another stroke but it's just acid reflux again." He chuckled, popping his bottle and taking a long swig as he sat next to his roommate.

Before Purple could respond with something equally ruthless, the internal loudspeakers of the Massive roared to life, deafening them both as they blared out furious, unexpected warnings for some unknown breach.

"The Massive is under lockdown! All personnel are to stay aboard the ship until further notice! I repeat, the Massive is under lockdown! All personnel are to stay aboard the ship until further notice!"

As soon as the domineering voice clicked off and the ring in Purple's antennae died down, his wrist gauntlet hummed awake with a slew of frantic memos and notices being shot out from the communication's deck around Spork's personal office. Oh, Irk. Was Spork finally dying? Was it _actually_ a stroke this time? Purple flipped open his communicator and stared down at the screen, freezing in bewilderment when a perfect, egotistical smile flashed back at him alongside a lengthy, scrolling, emergency notice.

Elite Commander Red?

Was something wrong with him?

Lar leaned over, taking another swig from his bottle as his eyes skimmed the announcement. "Huh. Looks like someone finally tried to off that cocky wierdo. About time." He chuckled. "Poison? I wonder how they managed that with as paranoid as he is about people touching him. You know, I saw him almost deck a guy when he accidentally bumped into him on his way to the mess hall the other day. Dude's a total freak. Honestly, he probably deserved to be killed."

Killed?

Purple swallowed thickly, returning his wavering attention to the screen and reading the unnerving docket for himself. "At 23:27 Elite Commander Red experienced what is believed to be an assassination attempt by PAK sedative poisoning and was found alone in his private quarters by a personal advisor who has asked to remain anonymous. His condition is currently unstable and he is being held in the Intensive Care Unit of the PAK Med Bay as technicians are working to restore his equipment to proper function. It is imperative that anyone with information leading up to this event come forward and speak with your superiors immediately, and any information withheld will be punishable by law. Until this issue is resolved and Elite Commander Red is in stable condition, no personnel shall be permitted to enter or exit the Massive and anyone found in violation of these orders shall be reprimanded."

Purple froze when he remembered what he had told Red at their lunch table only a few hours before.

_You look like you're gonna die or something._

He frowned and slowly closed the casing to his gauntlet, working it off his wrist when the information housed in the compartment made him feel unclean. But, he had just been talking with Red. He seemed a bit off, yeah, but nothing appeared to be completely out of the ordinary. Unfortunately, Red had made a lot of enemies in his time working on the Massive in the past few months; a lot of people thought he was far too arrogant and annoying for their taste, shying away from his violent tendencies and furious outbursts when he didn't get his way. The assassin could have been anyone he had come into contact with, and the list the Elite would have to interrogate would be extensive. Even Purple hated him. Still, after everything he had said and done, Red didn't deserve to _die_.

"Hey, Lar?" Purple piped up, standing and popping his back before making his way to the door and throwing his shoes back on. "I'm going for a walk. Just leave the door unlocked and don't wait up."

Lar shrugged with a fat yawn, not wanting to argue and flipping on their tiny transmission screen to scroll through the few meager channels the Massive got this far out into space. "You going to see Nemia from the science wing? She was totally flirting with you this morning."

Purple almost gagged at the name, forcing it away with a cheesy smile. "Uh, yeah. Sure. Nemia." He rolled his eyes and quickly straightened up when he heard Lar shift across the cushions.

Lar peaked over the couch with a proud grin, shooting Purple an air high-five. "Aw, yeah! My boy is finally getting some action!" He chuckled deviously before retuning to his show. "Be sure you double up on the protection. I hear she gets around, if you know what I mean."

Purple shuddered again at the absolutely repulsive idea of Nemia in his bed slathering her weird female biology all over his body. Gross. "Thanks. I'm…uh…gonna go now."

"Cool. See you."

As soon as Purple stepped back out into the corridor, he was met with terrified whispers about Red's rapidly deteriorating condition. He passed teary eyed service drones and sniffling female pilots huddled together as they ran over who was going to go and bring him candy to his medical pod when he was finally stable again. Then there were the snickers of delight, the tiny comments here and there that Red deserved his fate, and the bit back laughs of excitement at the prospect of his untimely death. Purple made his way to the elevator, taking it up to the Sick Bay and stiffening when the doors finally fazed open to reveal a horrific frenzy of a crowd trying to sneak a peak at their future Tallest through the petite window of his room's hatch or snap a hasty photo of what he looked like in such a pathetic, venerable state. A group of agitated medical drones huddled at the door as they tried to keep the vivacious throng at a distance, pushing bodies back with harsh hands and speaking into communicators for backup.

Was Purple really going to brave a crowd like that for someone he hated?

He clenched his teeth and forced his way through the thickening squabble of flailing limbs and waving communicators, shoving bodies ruthlessly to the side as he stumbled his way to the front. As soon as he neared the door his antennae flicked forward on instinct, picking up the stench of clean gloves and fresh linens, followed by the sounds of humming medical equipment and rapid labored wheezing. He stood on his toes to try and catch a glance at what was going on before being harshly thrust back by the palm of a medical drone and nearly losing his balance.

"Stay back until further notice." He ordered, staring up at Purple through his pristine mask. "This is a restricted area and only medical personnel may enter."

Purple took a step back and didn't argue, sinking further into the chattering group as he extended up once more, using his impressive height to his advantage as he finally caught sight of what was happening behind the reinforced hatch. He strained to hear over the roar of the crowd and the dense metal blocking his way, his curiosity bogging him down and helping him to isolate the muffled voices of medical drones and PAK technicians frantically digging through Red's internal hard drive as he lay comatose on a gleaming white medical table, drooling aimlessly against the frigid metal. He looked terrible, staring expressionless at nothing without blinking as doctors crowded around him and tried to get him to respond to the myriad of painful stimuli they were bombarding his pale, rigid form with to no success. How had Red been so careless as to let someone tamper with his PAK this way? Was it a malfunction from his rank updates? How much sedative had his attacker pumped him with? How much would it take for it to be lethal? Purple shrunk back when Red gave a ferocious involuntary jerk and stiffened, his body suddenly thrown into a horrendous, spine-breaking seizure at the slew of chemicals eating away at his drug fried nervous system. It made Purple cringe to watch, the wide, unresponsive eyes of his rival glued to something formless and unseen in the ether as his biological body threatened to quit and destroy the beautiful, handsome face Purple had secretly run his gaze over for months.

Did Red really deserve this?

Could he feel it? The pain?

Could he see Purple watching him through the hatch?

Technicians scrambled to pry Red's locked jaw open and shove a bite block between his teeth while he choked before trying their best hold him still as he shook and brutally thrashed, shooting his bloodstream with something viscous that Purple couldn't make out from afar and again flustering when it did nothing to ease his agonizing writhing or frothing mouth. Without warning, Red's violently struggling form came to a chilling, limp, halt and his irregular pulse went flat on the gargantuan monitor splayed behind him, forcing Purple to hold his breath in uncharacteristic panic when drones shouted and cried out at the thought of losing their future leader. They had just been talking a few hours ago. How could he be gone just like that?

What Purple and the rest of the Empire didn't know at the time was that they had almost witnessed the successful completion of Red's suicide; a heartbreaking, desperate attempt to leave behind the heavy pressures of becoming Tallest for billions and the loneliness of a universe that refused to let him forget his awful war flashbacks and barely acknowledged the achievements he had shed blood for. If only Purple had noticed his steadily growing depression through his mask of false confidence, if only he had seen through Red's pathetic cry for help as he sat at his lunch table and practically begged not to be left alone behind his ill-kept, snobbish exterior, maybe he wouldn't have done what he did. Maybe he wouldn't be dying on a cold table with no one to hold him close.

Still, Purple remained clueless and would for over a hundred cycles until Red would come clean to him in the chilly forests of Naphrus. The Control Brains would find out in secret, but the Empire would never know.

A drone rushed out of sight and returned with a weighty machine to manually restart Red's pulse when his PAK sputtered and failed to revive him from his fast encroaching end, warming up the shock pads as his colleagues swiftly cut away the fabric of his shirt with sharp PAK extensions. The drone forced everyone back from his flaccid body before bringing the powerful device to his chest and starting the countdown.

"Shocking in three, two…"

* * *

**The ground front of Judgementia;**

"…one!"

Purple shot up with a scream when he felt thousands of volts of electricity rip through his body, causing his back to vault and contort from the sheer force of the muscle bending wave and the unbearable heat radiating outwards from his chest. Someone pulled back and he slumped to the floor in a heap of uncertainty and nauseating, woozy perception, struggling to raise his arms but finding they were completely numb and lifeless. His feet were the same, chilled to the bone and totally senseless as he tried to feebly kick off whoever was prodding him through his dark, unfocused vision. He tried to push himself up to speak but was forced down by a set of tiny gloved hands, crying out in agony as they pressed a stiff gauze strip to his abdomen in an attempt to soak up the thick blood oozing from his deep, armor-piercing wound. Searing, white-hot, pounding, excruciating pain. It was completely indescribable and unlike any suffering or intolerable sensation Purple had ever felt in his skin, threatening to drag him back into a dizzy collapse until the hands pulled back, running soft, soothing circles along his bare, bloodstained shoulders as a soft voice attempted to pacify his torture. His heightened instinct kicked in with a sudden burst of lightheaded anger as he began to thrash, trying with all his might against the unbearable burn in his cracked ribs and destroyed flesh to land a bite to his assailant, only feeling the catch of messy, improvised stitches threatening to tear at the edges of the hole Pem had blown through his middle.

"Hang on, Commander!" A terrified voice squeaked out against his buzzing antennae as he wailed. "Please, sir, you've been shot! You're almost done! J-Just hang on a little longer!"

Purple labored to take a breath as the trembling, petite, blood soaked hands smoothed over his antennae and cheeks with motherly sympathy before reaching away and brandishing a pair of medical scissors, carefully plucking at his tight stitches and cutting away the excess with a shaky sigh of relief.

"Y-You're going to be ok! E-Everything is fine!" The voice sobbed fearfully, moving to cradle Purple's head in her warm lap as he cried and feebly fought to stay conscious through the mind-numbing torment. "Your PAK will have a chance to heal you now! I-I promise! The sedatives will kick in a-any time now!"

They stayed that way for a long while, time coming and going in waves as Purple's mind fazed out of reality only to come flooding back with awful clarity before the severe pain and shock of being shot would become too much and he would pass out again. Eventually, his PAK had recovered enough from the blast to begin work on mending his gutted tissue and bruised organs, pumping him full of liquid sedatives and warming his frozen extremities from head to toe, ushering him into a lengthy, serene slumber as he unconsciously replayed mismatched memories of Red in his mind.

* * *

**An indefinable amount of time in the past;**

By the time Purple had finally received his paycheck, Red was thankfully in stable condition. No one had received any other updates besides that his shaky, erratic pulse had stopped twice before leveling out and that he was plunged into a sickening withdrawal from the forced high that made him incredibly ill. Friends were allowed to visit him for a supervised hour at a time but were to be flanked by mammoth guards and thoroughly scanned to the bone for any signs of foul play, but whispers and rumors wafting over gossiping antennae said no one had been up to see him yet besides a few staunch officers and Spork's secretary giving him half-hearted condolences on behalf of their Tallest. The Elite worked tirelessly to catch Red's fictitious attacker, but always came up short, setting their rigid sights on the unlucky PAK technician that had performed his rank updates mere hours before his dreaded collapse. Because of the investigation, everyone aboard the ship now knew of Red's promotion, seething in sudden anger and frustration that someone had the audacity to try and assassinate a future Tallest right under their antennae. It was shallow and instinct driven, a need to protect a leader they had despised only a few days prior, and it sickened Purple to the core. He would never understand the uncomfortable, peculiar need for unwavering compliance that seemed to plague his colleagues. Did they not have minds of their own?

He went back and forth with himself in the mess hall with unusual scrutiny, rocketing between the cheap, mouthwatering glazed donuts he craved and the expensive, gooey strudels he had seen Red stuff his face with on more than one occasion.

Hm.

Would it be worth it to spend his precious, meager paycheck on someone so terrible?

Purple grumbled to himself in annoyance when the stocky food service drone cleared his throat behind the counter, attempting to usher him along through the growing line amassing behind him and tapping feet impatiently. Fine. Red had better be happy he had a conscious.

"Just give me two strudels."

The drone had been sympathetic enough to wrap them in wax paper to keep them warm before Purple reluctantly scanned his point card, grimacing as the code stripped away at his hard-earned money. With that he trudged on, trying not to think too much about Red's freakish seizure as he took the elevator back up to the Med Bay and weaved in between stretchers and covered his mouth to the hacking coughs of Irkens just transferred to the Massive and struggling with woozy space sickness as they fought not to retch with every shudder the ship gave. Amateurs. They would get used to the shift in gravity soon enough.

Red's pod was at the end of the hallway surrounded by stoic guards armed to the teeth with plasma rifles and pistols. It almost made Purple nervous to approach, tentative steps only alerting the soldiers to be on the defensive as he assertively brandished his ID badge for scanning. It took a lot longer to be cleared than he had originally anticipated, and a science drone had to be called in to test the food he had brought for any kind of foreign contaminants even though Purple had insisted on taking a bite out of both to prove there was nothing dubious about what he had ordered. It wasn't enough and the sample had to be taken and rushed back across to the science wing and put in a centrifuge to separate out the chemical composition, forcing Purple to wait a grueling hour and a half before the little guy finally sprinted his way back through the bustling Med Bay just to give him a thumbs up and open the door.

The hatch was shut behind him, and Purple could barely see the outline of the bodyguards through the frosted glass of Red's room, refusing to look up and acknowledge the steady beep of a slow, relaxed pulse greeting him from a myriad of monitors and expensive medical equipment.

"Hey…tall mechanic?"

Purple still stood stiff where he was, staring resolutely at the pristine floor at the weak rasp that called out to him in confusion, sighing in annoyance when the shock was followed by a few shaky coughs and the sound of a medical bed rising.

"What are you…doing here?"

Purple finally glanced up but kept his scowl, locking eyes with the once vibrant fire that had captured his attention. Now, Red was anything but the picture of Elite beauty he had come to know, his handsome face gaunt and sweat soaked as he attempted to come down from his awful drug induced withdrawal. He looked terrible, hanging weakly where he sat as he tried to reach up and wave with a thin smile, failing and letting his arm fall back to his side as he leisurely looked over Purple where he shifted uncomfortably on his feet. Wires and PAK stabilizers hung off of his pallid form, tangling him in a web of medical ingenuity as his lifeline attempted to rid itself of the remaining sedatives still lingering in his bloodstream and making his head swim. He had trouble focusing, coughing softly a few times and letting his head roll back as he struggled with the glare of the blinding lights only adding to the terrible headache pounding through his skull.

Purple noticed, reaching back and flicking them off before briskly striding over and throwing the curtains closed against the frigid window, blocking out the bright starlight pouring in and earning a serene sigh of relief from his colleague, leaving them in a tranquil darkness that was almost comforting. It was like they were the only two Irkens on the ship, falling away and grounding one another with their clashing personalities and silent looks. As much as Purple despised him, he couldn't deny that he actually liked being in Red's presence sometimes and, now that he was quiet and near comatose, he was even more pleasant.

"Fuck…thanks." Red mumbled with a tiny laugh before it turned back to a wheeze. "The drones leave it on when they leave."

Purple nodded, glancing away at the unpleasant, bitter sensation of Red's tired eyes trailing over him once more through the shadows obscuring his gaunt face, pulling back his callous outer exterior and piercing into the worried, compassionate center he kept so carefully hidden.

"You look gross." Purple finally attempted a lighthearted jab, pulling up a short stool and gingerly lowering himself down when Red flinched at the noise. "Really gross. Take a shower or something."

Red chuckled again, holding his gaze as he fought to stay awake. "Huh. You're the third person to tell me that. Don't think the ladies will like the au-natural thing?" He joked casually, grinning when Purple couldn't hide the telltale twitch at the corners of his frown before pulling them back on track. "So…why _are_ you here? Don't you hate me or something?" He asked again slowly, genuine curiosity shining through his hazy thoughts.

"Don't read into it. I still hate you." Purple reassured with a thick swallow, hesitating before holding up the two pastries he had almost forgotten about. "I figured the food around here was terrible so I just thought…eh…I don't know what I thought."

Smooth. Way to waltz in here and practically throw yourself in his lap! Red wasn't like his kind. He was going to be Tallest and as hard as it was to come to terms with, Purple had to realize that his secret, pathetic affections would never come to fruition. Ugh. Why did he even like a face so smug, anyway? Did his taste in men just suck?

Purple gradually unwrapped one of the flaky tartlets as he attempted to bite back the soft color forming in his cheeks and leaned forward, helping Red close his shaky fingers around the paper before returning to his own, trying not to linger on the intimate sensation of their hands so close. It was a struggle at first, but Red soon figured it out with surprising ease, forcing himself to muster up enough strength to raise his arm and take a tiny bite, sighing into the wonderful taste of his favorite food against his medication-numbed tongue.

They ate in distant silence, Purple trying not to stare when Red would feebly waver and have to rest, closing his eyes for a few hushed minutes before he would attempt to return to his makeshift meal with ragged, uneven breaths. Purple wondered a couple of times if he should try and help Red finish but didn't like the idea of his fingers so close to the lips of his terrible crush, internally kicking himself when Red would catch him watching before he hastily turned away with a pout.

It's not like the guy was smart enough to realize Purple's feelings anyway.

After the calm became too much to handle and his antennae began to ring with white noise, Purple attempted to break it with a cautious matter that he had been anxious to ask, his own immature inquisitiveness getting the better of his judgement.

"So," He began, watching as Red immediately stiffened in anticipation for what he already knew was to come, "what happened?"

Red froze, gingerly wrapping up what was left of his pastry that he couldn't bring his weak stomach to handle, setting it aside on his end table before slowly exhaling a mixture of dark emotions that had Purple squirming.

"That's why you're here." It wasn't a question, but a surprisingly depressing statement of awful realization. "Did they ask you to come in here and pry the truth out of me? Spork's advisors?"

Purple felt his hands twitch at the sudden intensity of Red's voice, shrinking back slightly at the electric weight the atmosphere had taken. "No. I came because I wanted to."

"No, you came because you want to know like the rest of them. I already told them, someone poisoned me."

"How? And what do you mean the _truth_?"

"I don't know."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Are you sure there's nothing-"

"Would you shut the hell up and quit asking?!" Red yelled back in sudden anger. "I don't wanna talk about it so stop bringing it up and let me forget already!"

Purple felt a pang of sorrow at the distress in Red's unnaturally distraught tone, glancing over when he noticed the guards shift apprehensively outside of the frosted glass at their escalating conversation.

"Fine, sorry I asked." He snorted derisively, throwing his defenses back up when Red crossed his arms over his chest with a pained grimace and stared him down as if to challenge him to keep on.

Purple rolled his eyes and forgot his fleeting sympathies as he pushed himself up with a grumble, thoroughly irritated that he had even thought coming here would be a good idea in the first place. He shoved his wrapper in his pocket and turned to make for the door, stopping when something crossed his mind that he couldn't contain.

"I really did come here because I wanted to." He explained hotly, watching as Red's gaze softened a bit at the heartlessness of his voice. "I wanted to be nice and put this whole," he threw his hands in front of him when he couldn't find the right word, "whatever this is between us in the past and actually be friends. I guess I was wrong. You'll never change." He looked Red over a final time in disgust when he remained silent, noticing when his pulse escalated slightly on the monitor at Purple's harsh front. He reached out for the door, stopping again with a growl of mounting irritation when Red cleared his throat.

"I'm sorry." He whispered through the blackness, freezing Purple in his tracks. "I'm trying to change. There's some things that are wrong with my head, and I know that now…after all this happened."

Purple didn't turn, overcome by the bizarre weightlessness as his hasty reply caught in his throat and came out as a strangled noise of surprise. His emotion overcame him in waves at the sincerity of a voice once so gruff and dominating, now soft and beautifully sympathetic to his fears. Even while Red lay venerable and weak, he had the bravery and sense to…apologize? He never apologized for anything. Why now?

"I'm glad you came, Purple. Thank you."

Purple didn't respond, hastily throwing open the door and letting it slam shut behind him as he took off in thought at the sound of Red using his name for once. Not idiot, not tall mechanic, not dock rat or the slew of creative derogatory insults he rattled off when they would meet; simply _Purple_. Purple without the hatred or the distain…Purple without the condescending disappointment or comments to his supposedly 'girl' eye color. Finally, he allowed himself a tiny smile as the disgustingly familiar butterflies fluttered up through his spooch, overcoming him with the secret adoration for someone so unlike his kind no one could ever know. Maybe they could be friends someday.

"You're welcome, Red. You're…"

* * *

**The ground front of Judgementia;**

"…welcome."

Purple coughed thickly through the stifling blackness as the word rolled unconsciously through his mouth, feeling his breath catch when he tried to move his sore muscles with no success and tasting nothing but dust and stale blood as he heaved. He was freezing, shivering violently as his PAK hummed frantically at the sudden movement, warning him to remain still against his better judgement. Where was he? What was this place? Finally, he was able to halfway roll onto his side, hot pained tears pricking at the corners of his eyes when he immediately regretted it, flopping onto his back and squirming in awful discomfort at the searing temperature radiating outwards from his ravaged middle.

"R-Red? Shit…" He whined bleakly through the stagnant gloom, desperate for the soft, protective touch of his lover in the chilly air to drive away the intense pain.

Why was there pain? He couldn't remember…couldn't remember what happened. Where…why? What was…what was happening? Was he on Irk? Was he in the Viral Tank? No...yes...no..didn't he mean the Massive? Did they win? Wait…what were they trying to win? Who were _they_? Voices. There used to be voices crying out around him through strident, booming explosions. Was there a war? With who?

This dismal place smelled strange, almost like the saccharine scent of gooey, boiling sugar and mechanical heat pouring off of technology from a few rooms over. Steam hissed lowly and ominously from somewhere overhead as coolant pounded through huge pipes and blocked out the sound of his heavy breathing. Someone had attempted to drape him in a loose sheet of crinkling tinfoil to keep in what little body heat his war torn body was somehow still producing and he brushed it frailly aside, trying again to sit up but only grunting through the pain as his abdominal muscles contracted and spasmed.

"R-Red?" He called again with a bit more confidence, locking his jaw when a single tear of frustration cascaded down his cheek and landed against the frosty metal below his bare back. "Where are you?"

Red was always around, and Purple started to panic when he didn't hear that familiar voice call out to him. He was just here…wasn't he? He could remember talking with Red in his hospital bed before someone knocked him out and threw him here. But, this wasn't the Massive. There were no officers running this way and that, no mechanics tools clinking against titanium, and no curiously flickering eyes of science drones reading over dockets. Faint images of the gargantuan ship exploding in the back of his mind rang out like a bell, only further confusing Purple where he sputtered. Was Spork dead? What cycle was it?

There was a shuffling from afar followed by tiny frantic footsteps and the dazzling glare of a medical headlamp blinding Purple's raw eyes as he jeered and turned away. Petite hands reached up and dimmed the light to a soft, warm glow as bruised knees knelt at his side, running timid hands over his cheeks to brush away the disgusting dried blood clinging to his pale skin.

"Commander? Are you awake?" A faint-hearted voice whispered, immediately pulling back with a peep of surprise when Purple's eyes shot open and he found enough strength to reach up and smack violently at the air.

"Who are you? Get away from me!" He cried out, instinct once again overpowering his pathetic state as he forced himself up to his side and to his knees, attempting to stand but only collapsing back down with a sharp yell, clutching at his throbbing stomach and panicking when his fingers made contact with a thin trail of messy stitches. "Tallest Spork…someone has to save him from the explosion!"

"Spork? He's been gone for almost 150 cycles now. Please, sir! You're safe!" The voice called back out in puzzlement, grabbing him by the shoulders and helping to gingerly prop him up against the grimy wall as he panted and writhed. "Do you remember me? I'm the medical drone from your battalion. You've been shot."

"Where's Red?" Purple managed to blurt out incoherently, still reeling from the strange memories slowly sinking back down into the old code of his PAK. "Is he going to be alright? Someone…someone poisoned him and the Elite has to figure it out before it's too late!"

The drone blinked and attempted to shroud Purple back in the sharp blanket of tinfoil she had found in the inner reaches of the factory's storage unit, growing vaguely frustrated when her patient continued to struggle and fight against her intensive efforts to keep him warm.

"Sir, it's the cycle 4,303,688 and you're on Judgementia." She explained slowly, trying with mounting seriousness to drag Purple's delirious mind back to the severity of their reality. "You were shot and fell twenty-one stories to the ground." She brandished an outdated Inquisitorian medical scanner, running the screen over Purple's heaving chest and down the length of his spine, observing each of his organs carefully as he moaned. "The blast damaged your lower spooch and you lost a lot of blood. Fortunately, it looks like the breaks in your spine have refused and your platelet count is back up, even if you're still anemic. I tried my best but you'll have a pretty deep scar."

"Shot?" Purple repeated sluggishly, blinking a few times in the dark when his ocular implants rebooted, finally dragging him out of his brain fog and allowing him to focus on the filthy, blood-streaked face and uniform of the medical drone he had saved from the encroaching Elite from across the street. "I was…wait. We're at war?"

"Yes, we're at war with the Control Brains. I played dead for a while outside when the Elite checked over your body. When they moved on to take on the Inquisitorian ground front on the other side of the planet, I drug you here and stitched you up." The drone gave a shaky laugh of respite, trying to hold it together despite the dire ramifications of their now pathetically defunct mission. "Honestly, it's a miracle you're alive." Her pink eyes lit up when she nearly forgot something, holding up a finger to signal him to remain still as she hopped up and jogged across the room, scooping up something with a wet slop before swiftly returning.

The mouthwatering smell of molten sugar invaded Purple's ravenous antennae, drawing him forward as the drone helped him to take a tiny mug of piping hot, liquid cane sugar. Almost immediately, he forgot his agony as the deathly pangs of hunger ripped through him, bringing the cup to his chapped lips and taking a careful sip of the liquid gold heating his aching hands. He almost cried at the glorious, incredible taste, feeling it travel through his battered digestive track and warm him from the inside out, instantaneously taking the edge off of the horrendous chill hanging in the unforgiving atmosphere.

"I found that in the back. There's hundreds of vats full of it." The drone grinned when her leader gave a low exhale. "This place is a candy factory. They have to follow sanitary regulations, so I figured here would be sterile enough to perform your operation."

After a few more sips of the slowly hardening sugar, Purple felt enough of his memory return to finally begin to rationalize what had happened. He was the co-leader of the IRM and he and Red had mounted a strike against the Control Brains for their attempted enslavement of their people. Pem had allied with them under the offer that he could rip open a war with Inquisitoria and take Vort in their name. He had climbed through the skyscraper to try and rig an explosion before he was confronted by the horrible little beast and they engaged in some kind of argument he couldn't seem to think of, but could vaguely remember Pem's nasty, filthy giggling before he was shot through his chest plate and pushed out of the window. After that was incredibly blurry; he remembered falling and feeling the hard ground collide with his back to shatter his ribs and his spine, but he must have lost consciousness somewhere around that point.

Pem?

Purple looked back up and held the gaze of the petrified drone as he came to, his face turning from bleary misunderstanding to blood-boiling wrath when he realized his enemy had gotten the better of him again.

"How long have we been here?" He asked urgently, slamming the mug down hard on the ground when the drone tore her nervous gaze away. "Answer me!"

"Four hours, sir. It's almost dusk." She whispered, flinching when Purple's rage only grew but knowing it wasn't directed at her. "Your PAK needed time to recover and heal your body from the blast. You're still not mended completely and I would strongly advise-"

"Shut up." Purple demanded ardently, bracing himself against the wall with an unsteady hand as he gritted his teeth, forcing his groaning muscles and weeping wound to calm as he painfully pushed to his feet, wavering on his unsteady heel when he remembered he had thrown his other boot off in the fire. He felt woozy and lightheaded as his antennae quivered, weakly trying to gauge how large the room was but giving up when all he could focus on was the ripping sensation in his abdomen.

Suddenly, a horrible realization hit him like a train, nearly knocking him off his feet again as he glanced around wildly through the darkness. Where was the rest of the battalion?! As if sensing his question as he stared out at the daunting nothingness surrounding them both, the drone cleared her throat and stood with a sad nod, confirming Purple's worst fears.

"It's just us."

Purple slowly let his baffled gaze trail back down to the pathetic excuse for a soldier threatening to cry beneath him. "What do you mean, _it's just us?_" He breathed, glancing over and catching sight of his toolbelt folded neatly against the wall amongst his now shattered armor. "All of them?"

The drone bit her lip with a sniff and slumped hard against the wall as her antennae drooped in agony. "All of them." She repeated softly, staring unemotionally at the floor. "I watched it happen. The only reason they didn't kill me was because they thought I was already dead. I pretended to be shot. I had to lay in a pool of my friend's blood to make it convincing."

Oh Irk, no. They had...lost? They couldn't have lost! No, there was no way this was true. Six months of careful planning and training couldn't have led to the blood curdling massacre dotting the streets outside. It was all a horrendous, sickening nightmare and they would wake up with the welcoming light of the Inquisitorian sun beating through their windows and against their tanned skin as they trained the day away. Purple would wake up next to Red and feel his beautiful pulse against his chest as he snored lightly into their pillow. He would get up and make him his favorite breakfast and watch those gorgeous crimson eyes flutter open as he brought him the bitter, awful coffee he loved in bed. Yeah…this was a nightmare. It had to be.

Only, it wasn't.

This was war. This was what they had prepared for and had secretly known would happen underneath their innocent, stupid denial and fervent need to retake their planet for the better. But what now? The Control Brains had won. Their poster boy, the violent, sadistic mess of a Vortian engineer gone mad, had won. Without a ground force, there would be no way they could make it to the Spike of Judgement.

"What about the fleet?" Purple asked hoarsely, hoping at least that they had made it out with their lives. "What about Red?"

"We haven't had contact with the fleet in hours since the tower came down." The drone mumbled despondently, succumbing to her depressing hopelessness. "There are thousands of downed ships all over the city. IRM, Inquisitorian, Armada; they're everywhere, sir." She held her breath a moment when a painful thought crossed behind her glassy eyes. "And…I watched as Utna's flagship crashed further inland."

Purple wanted to crumple into himself. Inquisitoria would have undoubtedly retreated back to their planet for reinforcements with Utna down. There was no telling if she was alive or not, but by the dark misery painting the drone's woeful face, it was growing to be quickly apparent that she was probably lost to the slaughter.

"Did you see the Viral Tank?" He mumbled, squeezing his eyes shut and bracing for the worst, images of Teem and Kez haunting his frayed nerves as he waited. "O-Or Lard Nar's Shuuver?" He paused when his pulse skipped a beat, the image of a broken smile stamped dangerously in his psyche. "What about…Red?"

Please, no. Please say no. Red was too smart to be shot down…right?

"No. I haven't seen them."

Purple had been expecting a wave of relief but was only met with more gut-wrenching uncertainty. At least there was a chance that his partner and his closest friends were still alive and out there somewhere, hopefully together. Red was tough and infinitely skilled; if something had gone wrong Purple was confident that he would be able to weasel his way out of whatever ridiculous situation he found himself in. After all, Red had promised on his life that he would come home.

Purple had also made a promise and he was intent on keeping it.

He heaved himself on, taking a few shaky steps forward as he tried to form a plan as to what they needed to do next. Without any resources or reliable communication with the fleet, they were stuck on the planet's surface and every Elite officer in the galaxy would give anything to sink their claws into Purple and rip him to shreds in the name of faulty justice. They could potentially light a signal fire and try to attract the attention of anyone lingering in the atmosphere for an impromptu rescue, but they would also attract the attention of the Irken Armada and risk being obliterated into the dust of a crater when they were met with plasma cannons. What about trying to reach higher ground to lock on to a signal flitting weakly through the atmosphere? No, that was also too risky to work. There was no telling who would spot them or if they would even lock on to anything with the tower crippled. Dammit! Was there anything they could do?

Purple took another precarious step and froze when his bare toes landed in something sticky and viscous, squinting down through the faint light of the drone's sputtering headlamp to the ground where he immediately stumbled back with a shout at the lifeless eyes of a limp Elite officer staring back up at him.

"Ah! S-Sorry!" The drone flew forward and threw the tin sheet over the disgustingly mangled body to hide it from view as Purple spun around and tried to catch his breath. "He was a straggler that got lost from his troop, I think. He stumbled in here and I had to…well, you know."

There was a long, drawn out silence between the two before Purple could finally will himself to turn back around. When would this horrific nightmare end? He blinked and peeled his gaze away when his wide eyes landed back against the blood-splattered gauntlet of the officer poking out from beneath his shiny casing, cold and unmoving against the floor.

Wait.

The beginning of a disgusting idea began to form in the back of Purple's thoughts as he urged himself to calm, bringing a hand back down to his abdomen with a flinch when his stitches sent a twinge of hot pain rocketing up his bruised spine. Pem had disguised himself as an Irken for cycles as he climbed his way up into the Armada and to his eventual position in the Elite, utilizing the Empire's own holographic technology with the use of an…Irken Invader's gauntlet. The same gauntlet had begun to be issued to the Elite four cycles ago. He closed in on the slowly deteriorating body, attempting to stoop to look over the unfortunate officer's equipment but wavering when his body wouldn't let him bend through his discomfort.

"Medical drone," he called out, not looking away as his pulse spiked with escalating tension. Maybe this could work. Maybe. "Pull off his gauntlet."

"My name is Gorb." She mumbled under her breath, squeezing her eyes shut as she tentatively bent down and fumbled to find the smooth device. As soon as her hand landed on it, she clamped her free one over her mouth as she whimpered, tugging slightly to try and work it off his wrist without revealing his body from his covering. Finally, with great effort, Gorb was able to shuck the gauntlet from the brittle bones of her victim, spinning around and thrusting it up for Purple to examine before she burst into tears and went to the corner to try and calm her unexpected terror.

He reluctantly took it and popped the internal compartment, cringing when a small photograph of the officer and his wife tumbled out and cascaded to the freezing floor. Purple tried not to think about it, reading over the name etched into the metal.

"Officer Denk." He breathed out, slipping the gauntlet over his wrist before kicking the tinfoil to the side to look over his rigid, frostbitten face. It was a tight fit, but he didn't have much choice.

He fiddled with a few buttons before scanning the whole of the body, the device quickly forming a three-dimensional image over the little screen before beeping out an error, asking for more surface area. Purple groaned to himself and held his breath, rolling the body over and shuddering at the sound of his stiff bones crunching under the weight. Finally, he was able to halfway maneuver him onto his stomach and scan the rest of his body, the imprint completing the rest of the virtual disguise and dinging out its compliance, ready to shroud his form in the false image of the deceased Irken laying at his feet.

It…it worked?

For the first time since the brutal, violent war had started, Purple felt himself grin unabashedly at the incredible stroke of luck the universe had granted them. Inquisitoria didn't have this kind of technology back on their planet, and it was almost impossible to import it directly from Irk, so none of the battalion or the fleet had any way of utilizing it after they had been forced to defect. But now, this changed the entire course of the war.

They still had a chance to take the Control Brains offline.

Purple could still make it to the Spike of Judgement

No…_Officer Denk_ could make it.

* * *

**Vortian Prison Camp 4;**

Red had given up trying to pry the bars of their cell open some time ago, sitting limply next to Lard Nar as they chain smoked disgusting, cheap cigarettes and waited for their communicators to come back online. The pilot had come to but couldn't speak through his crushed windpipe and vocal cords, lying pitifully atop the grimy, waste covered mattress as his tiny PAK attempted to heal him and he sputtered weakly against the smoke billowing from his captors' lungs. It had been hours; hours without hearing from the fleet or Purple's progress on the surface of Judgementia and Red wasn't even sure if they had made it to the Spike of Judgement or if they had been overtaken by the horrors of the expertly trained Irken Elite ravaging their troop. He couldn't shake the mind-numbing feeling that something had gone horribly wrong, gruesome images of Purple lying dead on a slab plaguing him as he continued to suck thick swallows of ash into his body and depressing him into submission. His snarky sunshine, his future fiancé was stuck with a bunch of hardhearted Elite soldiers on the surface of a planet they had once held dominion over. It was a bad idea. Red should have never let him go down there.

Eventually, they had run out of cigarettes and moved on to busting open the medical compartment in Red's PAK, digging out his sedatives in pathetic despair to forget the horrors swirling around them, crushing the glass vial to get to the sweet, gooey filling. Lard Nar went first, drinking in a fat swig of liquid painkillers before almost immediately melting to the floor like butter and forgetting where he was as he giggled feebly at imaginary things he groped for in the air. Red had stared at what was left in the vial for a long while, mouth watering at the thought of the beautiful splendor of the high he hadn't tasted on his lips for so long. He wanted it. He wanted it more than anything in the universe. He wanted it so bad he would…no.

No.

Never again.

There was something else he wanted more.

He wanted Purple.

He had pushed himself from the filthy floor and crossed to the decrepit sink in the back of the cell, dumping out what was left of his precious trip and wincing in agony as he watched it drain away. He fought back the heartbreaking urge to bend down and attempt to lick it from the grungy, decomposed steel before it was gone completely, biting his tongue hard as he pulled away and reminded himself how far he had come. Purple would be proud of him for making the right decision and staying clean…no matter how much it hurt to watch Lard Nar enjoy it by himself. He was above that life and now he had someone to live for. Someone who was out there somewhere waiting for him to break free.

"..ello?!"

Red nearly shot out of his boots when Lard Nar's communicator cried out in his jacket pocket, the fuzzy transmission of a familiar voice screaming out in desperation to reach anyone she could possibly get through to.

"P…ease! ..ed? Are you...h..lp!"

Red gasped and rolled his blubbering, drooling friend onto his side, sneering when he reached out and ran his clammy hands over his with a delirious chuckle. Red grumbled and batted him away as he returned to his luminescent hallucinations with a confused smile before his yellow eyes finally fluttered shut and he gave in to the deep slumber of drug induced relaxation.

Red fumbled to click the button on the side of the communicator, bringing it to his lips as he struggled with how to respond. "Pur? Is that you?" He held his breath, hoping for an enthusiastic yes, but slumping back against the wall of the cell when someone else picked up.

"No you…diot! It's me…eem!"

Wait…_eem_? As in _Teem_?

"Teem? Where are you?"

Red's voice began to grow urgent at the thought of someone finally coming for them and breaking them loose from this hellish nightmare. After hours of internalized claustrophobia, he would be free to rake the surface of Judgementia and find his beautiful partner. The front didn't matter anymore at this point; what mattered was getting Purple back in his arms and off of that dreadful vision of a planet so they could find some other way to take back Irk, if it was even theirs to take back anymore. There would undoubtedly be a new Tallest soon as the grace period for finding a new leader came to a close, if they hadn't already been elected, and they would be just as ignorant and blind as he and Purple had been for their entire reign. Nothing would get done and the administration would have to be stamped out with IRM rebellion after rebellion until they lost everything and ran out of replacement plasma coils for their rifles. What if they never took back Irk and just fought for the rest of their, hopefully, long lives? What if dreams were meant to be just that...dreams? Red wanted to give Purple the domestic bliss he idolized from his favorite films and that didn't seem all that ideal. It sounded depressing and constantly perilous; instead of waking up in the morning and taking slow walks like normal couples, they would take shifts monitoring wherever they could find to sleep to ensure Irken forces didn't overtake them. Instead of cuddling together and watching stupid reruns after work on their couch, they would be sneaking into Irken outposts dotted around the galaxy to steal food when they ran out. Instead of preparing for their beautiful wedding ceremony and choosing their burn mark, they would be preparing to mount counterstrikes against the constant threat of the Armada.

Lard Nar was right. Red should have asked Purple to marry him sooner.

"I…at…entia's moon!" The broken voice rang back out through the spotty connection as Red strained to hear over the whine of heavy plasma fire in the background. "Und…r attac…! Ple…you have to….elp!"

Teem sounded uncharacteristically terrified, her voice slicing through the atrocious link and wavering as she begged and pleaded for help that wouldn't come. Where was Inquisitoria? Where was the rest of the fleet? Red began to run through worst case scenarios, slowly realizing that Pem's Armada had probably taken out what was left of their meager fleet and picked them off like flies. Teem had managed to squeak out that she was somewhere on Judgementia's moon, but that didn't make any sense unless she had either been forced to land the Viral Tank or it had been shot down and crashed. Were there any survivors or was she alone?

Suddenly, the connection locked on and her voice rang out clear as crystal as she screamed, blasting away with her rifle as the guttural growls and unnerving sounds of bodies smashing into the ground bounced over the cell, causing the mute pilot to sit up and stare in terrified awe.

"I'm under attack, you douchebag! Get your ass back here!" Teem cried out with candid fervor, letting out a pained shout when something collided with her body, followed by the sound of a reinforced hatch slamming shut and locking. "Fuck, I'm hit! I-I'm hit!"

"Teem, I'm trapped in the prison with Lard Nar! It wasn't Pem in the Ripper." Red replied hastily at the sound of a rifle cocking and reheating. "Can you make it to Vort? If you can get us out of here, we can regroup and take on the Armada together!"

Teem gritted her teeth against the pain of her wound before opening fire once more. "No. They blew our power core and Inquisitoria retreated when Utna went down over the surface." She paused with a low, hopeless chuckle. "Kez and some of the crew escaped through pods but…Irk, Red…it hurts! But...b-but..."

"But what?" Red urged her to stay conscious as her voice faded and lulled against what he knew in the pit of his stomach to be massive blood loss. "Teem? Please, stay with me!" He tried to hold back the rush of dreadful emotion he felt trickling through his logic. She was his oldest companion; they had grown up together in the dark of the Naphrus Smeetery. They had learned to shoot together and ascended through the ranks together before taking on the Naphrus Airbase as a joint venture. She was incredibly irritating and constantly furious about something, but she had been the one to urge Red to finally make a move with Purple and open up the next chapter of his life. She had been the one to save his partner and open his eyes to the horrors unfolding just under their antennae, bringing them together with the iron fisted IRM to a vibrant tomorrow they all wanted to live.

Red returned desperately to the bars, jerking furiously at the lock out of sheer desperate frustration when Teem's fading voice piped back up in his antennae with an almost serene tranquility that he couldn't fathom, dragging the first inkling of tears from the corners of his eyes when she gently shushed him.

"But I wasn't so lucky…I forced the crew to take Kez and get her out before we crashed. I had to get her out…I-I couldn't let her go down like this…with me." There was a thick sniff followed by a panting sob. "You're a good guy, Red." She mumbled affectionately. "I never said that enough, but I'm happy that I could have known you. Be good to Purple and marry that idiot. If he says no, tell him Teem a-already said yes for him."

"Shut up! Shut the fuck up, Teem!" Red hissed through his teeth, raking violently through the room for anything he could find to try and pry the lock off, forcing the voiceless pilot to the ground as he flipped the mattress and ran his hectic gaze over the ground. "You'll be at my wedding!"

"No, Red…I won't. T-They shot me through my PAK. I…um…well I don't have much time."

Red choked on her words, ripping open the fabric of the mattress and blinking when he noticed the long, thin metal of the box spring still intact. Yes! Maybe, just maybe he could pick the lock and get out there to warp to Teem's location before she was overrun.

"Wait! Just hang on a little longer! I'm going to get to you and hook you to mine! We'll both be able to live long enough for you to get help!" He ordered, struggling to rip the metal free and contort it into something somewhat usable before flying back to the lock and forcing the pointed end in through the slat. "I have an idea! Just…give me a second!"

"Red, will you promise me something?" Teem coughed out, verbally cringing at the sound of a rifle butt pounding at the thick door her back rested against. "R-Red?"

"I'm here." He locked his jaw, forcing the thin strip further along the internal grooves of the lock as he struggled to move the pin out of the way and finally free them.

"Promise me you'll find Kez." Teem sputtered, something wet and viscous boiling up in her throat as she coughed again. "F-Find her and take care of her for me. Bring her to Irk with you when you win…"

Red scrunched up his face to keep from breaking down and losing what was left of his threadbare sanity, trying with all his might to focus through the searing agony of listening to his companion's precious life slip through his long fingers. "When _we_ win, idiot. Please, if you can't stay awake for me, stay awake for your wife." He managed to breathe out, freezing momentarily when he finally popped the lock. He shouted in elation, throwing the metal pin down and scrambling to scoop up Lard Nar's limp body before making a mad dash from the cell, tripping over creatures as they scurried feverishly to get out of his way as he slammed through doors and vaulted around corners. "I'm out! Fuck, I'm out Teem! Just hold on!"

"Do you…p-promise?"

Red wiped his misty eyes on the back of his free hand as he tried to remember how they entered, cursing when he found himself completely without bearings. "No! I promise I'll get you back to her in one piece!" He caught sight of a dusty, rotted out map barely clinging to the rough wall and squinted, finally figuring out where he needed to be and tearing off back in the direction he came.

"Red…please. Please…just do this for me. Please..." She was sobbing again, hanging on his every word in desperation as he tried to hold it together for them both.

"I-I can't." Red strangled out, readjusting his shaky grip on Lard Nar when he threatened to slip. He thought a minute, realizing his compliance might be the lifeline Teem needed to stay conscious until he could make it to her demolished ship. "Fine, yeah, I promise. I promise. I'll find Kez and make sure she's taken care of."

"Good…I know she'll be in good hands. Thank yo-"

The sound of a booming plasma shot ripped through the communicator, stopping Red dead in his tracks as his entire body went cold and numb to the darkness around him. He dropped Lard Nar's body to the floor with a heavy thump as the pilot managed to catch up, dropping to his battered knees out of overexertion as he wheezed.

No.

No.

Please.

No.

"Teem?" Red mumbled breathlessly into the mouthpiece, squeezing his eyes shut when all he heard was the sound of the blown-out hatch creaking open and heavy boots thumping in over the metal. "T-Teem?"

"Looks like your little lesbian whore is gone, _defective_!" Someone hooted wildly from the other end with a cackle of a laugh, followed by the resounding chatter of his colleagues kicking Teem's limp body to the side. "We're coming for you and your freaky boyfriend next, you gay piece of rebel shit!"

She was dead.

Teem was dead.

She…she was…

"You…" Red mumbled against the mouthpiece, antennae twitching as he stared blankly to the ground and listened as the raunchy, cold voices of the Elite grew excited when he actually responded through his dazed, heavy shock. "You…?"

"Aw, boohoo sweetheart! Too bad you can't be here to see her like this. Mm, it's terrible she didn't suck dick. Those lips could have been put to _good_ use!"

"Shut up." Red managed to exhale under his breath as he came down from his sudden shock, swallowing thickly as he tried to shake the weighty, soul-crushing realization that they had lost from his mind. That _Teem_ was lost. "S-Shut up."

"Ha! Listen to him over there!" The officer growled excitedly through Red's haze, riling up his companions as they crudely mocked their former leader. "I bet your nasty little boyfriend sucks dick like a pro now that the whole Empire knows he's had a lot of practice. Maybe my team and I should go down to the surface so he can go down on us!"

That did it.

Red slammed the device to the floor as he cried, screaming out in pure, unbridled wrath at the final sounds of the Elite invading the Viral Tank and laughing over his teammate's lifeless body million of miles away before it shattered. His oldest friend, his co-commander for cycles, snuffed out by the regime they had both fought to uphold for so long. She had died alone and cold on the floor of a rusty, warped piece of crude equipment with no one there to defend her. Red yelled again and spun, landing a hard punch to the wall as he was consumed by his blistering wrath, forcing another ferocious blow to the paneling and only seething when it dented under his cruel touch. Even if they were just spouting idiotic slander to spite him and dig under his skin, if any of those Elite bastards has the audacity to lay a single finger on Purple, Red would personally see to it that their husbands and wives were tied up and shot into the cold reaches of space. How could this mission have gone any worse?! Utna was dead and Inquisitoria was forced to pull out of the fight. Their fleet was maimed and demolished, and no one had communications with Purple or his battalion on the surface.

They were officially ruined.

The little pilot scrambled back when Red turned his fiery gaze down upon him, drawing his pistol from his belt and following him as he fought weakly to escape. He stooped down and grabbed the pathetic soldier by his already bruised neck, shoving the barrel of his gun into his mouth and prying his yellowed teeth apart.

"Your leaders did this." He growled out, enjoying the feeling of small boots raking down his sides and claws scrambling and digging at his forearms as the pilot gagged on the warming metal forced deep into his throat. "Did you hear what your friends just called me?"

The pilot squeezed his eyes shut as Red bore down and flicked off his safety, letting the deadly coil heat against his slippery tongue as his captive writhed.

"Do _you_ think there's anything wrong with being my kind? With being gay?" Red growled, sadistically toying with his prisoner. He'd never actually said the word out loud before, but admitting it to someone felt incredible, even if he was about to splatter his tiny brain all over the floor. "Well?!"

The little Irken stopped fighting and strained to shake his head against the pressure on his skin, practically hyperventilating and glancing wildly to where Lard Nar lay for help, whining out his terror when the little Vortian refused to move.

Red clicked the claw of his forefinger over the trigger and gutted the horrorstricken pilot with his bruising, unassailable stare, leading down just inches from his face so he could feel his ragged, uneven breath panting against his skin. "I don't even know where my partner is right now, but if anything happens to him I'll-."

At the mention of Purple, the soldier's eyes went wide with some kind of forbidden knowledge and he struggled to say something, sputtering and coughing under Red's grip in a frantic attempt to get him to pull back. Red watched him a moment with merciless intent, squeezing when he almost got the beginning of a word out before pulling back and letting him cough violently for air.

"You know something." Red cocked his pistol, keeping it trained firmly between his enemy's wide, panicked eyes. "Spit it out."

The pilot struggled to recover, wheezing a few times as he stumbled over his syllables and vowels before he managed to squeak out a mangled word through the darkness. "Sp…Spike."

Red rolled his eyes and stood, positioning himself over his target as he threw his hands up and trembled through chattering teeth. "I already know that's where he's going!" He barked, causing Lard Nar to jolt in his drug-fueled sleep.

The pilot shook his head wildly and tried again with mounting fear, pushing himself up on shaky hands to practically beg for mercy. "Purple…Spike…Comm…ander…Pem…going to…take Inq…uisi…toria…Irk in…danger of…f-falling…ple..ase…help…forced…m-me…to do…this…please!"

He slumped back down in pained enervation when Red blinked, remembering the agreement Pem had struck with the Control Brains for his successful annihilation of Inquisitoria's main fleet. If he had achieved that and taken the planet's prime defenses off the grid, they would be moving on to the next phase of their plan; pitting Irk against Inquisitoria officially and forcing both planets to go to official war and obliterate one another. Then it was just a short step for the Control Brains to sweep down and collect the tattered remnants of both planets…and enslave the Irken race. Even if this pilot was still clueless to the bigger picture and was still stuck within the collective the Control Brains were holding everyone in, maybe he could be useful after all.

Red grumbled to himself and returned to Lard Nar, slinging him up over his shoulder as he flicked the safety back on his pistol and shoved it back in his belt holster, turning back to the pilot who watched him with wide wary eyes.

"Look, I'll make you a deal." Red said reluctantly, reaching down and pulling the frightened soldier up by the shoulder and repositioning him on his shaky feet. "If you help me get down to the Spike of Judgement to find my partner and stop Pem, I won't kill you. Deal?"

The pilot didn't hesitate, reaching out and shaking Red's hand as he nodded, allowing himself a tiny smile at their horrific alliance, but more just happy that he wasn't going to be blasted in the face by his former Tallest.

Ugh. What was the universe coming to? Red took off again, irritated when Lard Nar's flaccid horns kept brushing against his cheek as he ran. Teem had been murdered by a plasma shot, the IRM was displaced across the cosmos, Utna had been blasted out of the sky, and Lard Nar was stoned out of his mind. All Red had on his side now was one puny pilot who could barely form a coherent sentence and a Shuuver that could be spotted from miles away. He couldn't let Teem die in vain, reaching up to wipe at his eyes again as battled with the uncanny, horrid emptiness tearing through his spooch at the thought of such a formidable commander, such a wonderful, thoughtful friend, falling in battle. He couldn't let it eat at him...not now. He had to be strong and finish this in her name and her memory. He had to find Kez and bring her to the Irk they were going to build from the rubble of the Control Brain's diabolical Empire. Red took a deep, shaky breath and pushed away his depression when he felt it threaten to drag him down. Still, he had to carry on. He was determined to find Purple and take him by the hand to end this together. They had to end this together and walk away towards the bright future they had promised each other and have hundreds more firsts together before they died; their first house, their first personal Spittle Runner, their first tax sheet as a married couple. Purple would have his first mechanic's garage all to himself and Red would have his first flight training school. He wanted that. Irk...he wanted that. Red was ready to settle down and be a husband and ready to keep Purple as his own for the rest of his life.

And...he was ready to rid this world of the filthy grin of Pem Goor and his dastardly mechanical servants.

* * *

Woo! Sorry to those of you who wanted me to kill of Purple, but it would have thrown a wrench in the entire chapter flow I've planned out for everything. I have this whole fic planned out down to the last detail, so I'm sticking to that. Thank you for your continued support, and I love you all!

UPDATE AGAIN FOR NEXT SCHEDULED POSTING TIME: October 30, 2019 at 9:00 pm. Thanks! I actually managed to get it done, yeah!

It's also now about 9pm on the night this was posted and my kid is still awake so I'm going to leave and go put her to sleep! Have a good night, fam!


	22. Change of Plans

Welcome back beautiful people! Guess what? WE HAVE MORE GORGEOUS FANART! That's right! Our lovely reviewer, **Gen,** (known as **mipexch** on Instagram) created an amazing piece featuring a scene from chapter 16, when Pem reveals himself as the Third Party in the Spike of Judgement! I'm totally in love right now, and I wanted to link their art here! Ya'll seriously, follow them. Their art is BOMB. (also, because of the way this site works, you'll have to paste together this link because it doesn't allow us to post full links here. You'll just have to remove the spaces I put in it. I dunno why, but that's life, right?)

www . instagram p/B4JQfQUgjLK/

Thanks again, **Gen**! I love you darling angel!

I've also posted the complete character reference sheet of sketches I look at when I describe the myriad of OCs featured here. It includes Pem as an Irken, Pem as a Vortian, Teem, Kez, Sledhob, Utna, Urb Yen, Prisoner 432, General Nulol, Medical Drone Gorb, Elite Officer Denk, and Purple's roommate and coworker Lar from the flashbacks. Nothing special, just something to keep me on track if anyone is ever interested.

www . instagram p/B4O8FWRhOOr/

**Chapter rated STRONG M for graphic depictions of violence/blood/gore/death, sexual assault, brief heavy language, and general adult themes. Please understand that I do not condone anything that happens to these characters. I am merely telling war as it is from the horror stories that I have read in the past. **_**I do not condone violence, sexual assault, or torture, nor do I enjoy it IN THE SLIGHTEST OR WOULD I EVER DO IT TO SOMEONE ELSE.**_** Just wanted to put that out there fam to make myself feel better about what I write.**

* * *

**Vortian Prison Camp 4:**

Red had to get to Teem's body; there was absolutely no way he was going to leave her to grow cold and stiff on the surface of a desolate moon surrounded by the disgustingly risqué taunts of the Elite he used to command. Now they were horrid monsters, imperialist beasts blind to a system they couldn't begin to fathom through the pitiful fog clouding their insolent minds. It wasn't necessarily their fault; they had fallen victim to the malicious whims and yearnings of the vindictive Control Brains and their false terrorist of a commander, Pem Goor, pontificating nonsense and false projections of beauty that was never to come. Red wanted nothing more than to hold the lifeless corpse of that despicable Vortian in his hands as he tossed him over the highest cliff he could find and laughed as he plummeted to the final embrace of death. He didn't just want the little beast dead, but ripped to thousands of bloody, mangled pieces and scattered across the universe for the rest of everyone's short pathetic lives. He was constantly there, lurking around shadowy corners and eating away at precious conscious minds until they were nothing more than piles of ash and soot combusted from overuse and agony. Why did he have to exist? Why did the Irken Empire have to cater to someone so vile and disgusting?

Red had managed to halfway stumble out of the prison with Lard Nar under his arm, a constant trail of goopy drool hanging from his lips as the pilot trudged along behind him, completely exhausted and worn out to the universe. As soon as they were back in the plush seats of Red's personal Shuuver, he was out like a light, falling victim to his own needs when they left the foul, decrepit surface of Vort as it crumbled pitifully in their wake. It was pathetic how good of a job Miyuki's administration had done to eradicate the unfortunate flora and fauna that once coated the now dusty plains and gloomy caves, a mere biproduct of Irken expansionism and false ingenuity and a heartbreaking reminder of the horrors Red had wrought upon others during his reign. Still, with the introduction of savvy Inqusitorian researchers with the Irken-Inqusitorian Treaty and their incredible atmospheric technology, Red had halfheartedly noticed through the miserable, excruciating tragedy that a soft carpet of black grass had begun to peak up through the dust in uneven patches, craning itself up to soak in the rehabilitated troposphere and bask in the pale, serene light of Vort's distant red sun. The planet was completely virgin once more, given a miraculous chance to renew itself for the better should this horrid war be stopped.

Red had cursed himself when he thought it, but he was actually sort of…_glad_. Was he becoming soft? Maybe. Was he becoming protective of his tiny Vortian colleagues? Probably. Since the removal of the Control Brain's icy embrace over his PAK and his biological mind, he had reluctantly noticed many things about the Vortian race that he had blindly hated from his conception, a monster bred for war without question against a race that he now understood didn't deserve to be ruined. They were ingenious, captivating people with a near million-year edge over the youthful Irken race, creating infinitely innovative technology for the betterment of the entire star system, not just their own; they could have boisterous children and were affectionate, loving parents, ate exotic but incredibly delicious food, and had a zeal for morality that continued to astound Red when it presented itself in all its glory. If only Miyuki had come to the same gorgeous epiphany hundreds of fateful cycles ago…maybe they wouldn't even be in this mess.

Still, here they were.

Lard Nar shifted slightly from where Red had strapped his shivering body into the passenger seat, drawing him back to the present as they finally hit warp and headed swiftly towards the desolate surface of Judgementia's pathetic excuse for a moon, the gravity of what had happened finally sinking in and gripping at every cell in his body. He gripped loosely at the clutch through his pilot's visor and tentatively glanced behind him to where the unnamed pilot lay curled in the backseat, wheezing softly to himself as his tiny chest rose and fell in peaceful increments. When he was sure no one was watching, Red passed himself over to his heavy, heart-wrenching sentiments and broke down, silently sobbing to himself as the airy sound of Teem's wretched, desperate last words rebounded through his exhausted mind and touched places he had forgotten existed. She didn't deserve to be murdered. She didn't deserve to be lying frozen in a pool of her own sticky, cooling blood. She didn't deserve to be stripped away from the love of her life and leave her behind to the unsympathetic, cruelty of a hideous universe that had been so determined to eat them alive from the start.

Why?

Why where they wrong?

Why was every jagged claw, every searing gaze, every sharp set of gnashing teeth keen on sinking into their flesh and ripping away the tranquility of profound, bottomless love they had all learned to find in one another?

Why?

Why was love _wrong_?

Why was love _illegal_?

Red peeled an unsteady hand away from the clutch and reached up, wiping away his warm, salty tears at the feeling of the ship quaking and shivering as they exited warp and came to drift lazily through the weak gravity tethering the petite moon in orbit around the filthy rock of the once mighty Irken justice system. He had to hold it together. This was war. Heartless, bloodthirsty, unemotional war and he had done this hundreds of times. He had seen countless lives lost, countless throats and limbs torn from unsuspecting, nubile forms as they writhed in agony and the priceless glow of uniqueness and soul flooded away from their large, petrified eyes. He had lost friends, colleagues, and watched from the sidelines as wives and husbands screamed and wailed from the agonizing news that their precious spouses had been raked down on the battlefield by the merciless mistress of colonization. So, as he squinted down at the surface through his raw, misty gaze to where their once gorgeous Viral Tank lay burning, why did he feel…hollow? Teem had known the sacrifice and had submitted willingly to the pressures they had surmounted together countless times in the past, so why was it that all he could think about was how he was going to break the tragic, disastrous news to Kez?

Why?

Was there even an answer anymore?

They descended gradually to the bitter crash site, Red trying not to choke as he eyed the curling spires of viscously licking flames stretching forward to meet them, set alight as a final warning from the ruthless Elite that anyone hovering outside of the planet should retreat with their pitiable lives still somewhat undamaged. It took a great deal of mental effort to work up the audacity to weakly kick open the hatch and make it down the slowly descending stairs to the gritty surface, the immediate stench of metallic blood and stilling carcasses overcoming Red as he clamped a shaky hand over his mouth to the sight of the slaughter. There were others here. Many…many others. Flich, the Vortian translator who had captured Lard Nar's affections, lay blankly in the distance, staring up through the cosmos with desolate, half-lidded, unblinking eyes as her lifeforce leaked away through a single, clean shot in her side. A ghastly handful of pilots stretched out across the plain from where they had attempted to escape the horrific massacre, wiry limbs and unidentified organs mangled beyond recognition until they were nothing more than prime cuts of Irken and Inquisitorian meat. Red forced himself on against the sting of oil and petroleum lacing the atmosphere and burning his sensitive eyes, catching sight of the damming, overpowering, excruciating sight he had silently hoped was all a fictitious nightmare.

There she was.

Teem had been pulled from the wreckage as a disgusting trophy for the soldiers who had claimed her bright-burning life, now laying completely nude and face down against the hard ground from where she had been forcibly stripped and splayed to torture and undermine the sanity of anyone happening across her unfortunate body. Red held his breath, hovering a moment over her back as he examined the appalling extent of what had been done to her gorgeous skin. She had been mutilated, tortured in her last seconds of life as the now disgusting, appalling image of the Irken crest had been carved against her will into the back of her thigh with a boot knife, pale pink blood oozing lazily to stain and mix with the pallid green over her body. Her clothing had been tossed Irk knows where, probably kept as a disgusting symbol of victory to be passed around through the fleet as they reminisced over her vile murder. Red stooped down and gingerly flipped his visor, cringing back as his body shook and threatened to drag him down into the mind-numbing torture as he reached out and rolled her onto her back when a few lose wires of her still humming PAK sparked. He blinked and slowly closed his eyes in pure, unabridged sorrow when the worst of his fears had been substantiated.

Teem's body had been used.

Her glittery pink lip gloss had been smeared down her jaw and her thick eyeshadow had streaked through her tears, mouth hung agape and limp tongue riddled with gruesome globs of nauseating foreign DNA that wasn't her own. Red held his breath and wiped away the sticky release from her once prevailing face on the back of his glove, anesthetized and sickened to the core that the troop he had once called home would stoop so appallingly low as to take advantage of a former commander, of a defenseless, dying woman for their own sadistic pleasure before splaying her in her own blood for the entire universe to laugh at.

Why?

Again, was there even an answer anymore, or were they all destined to suffer?

"I'm so sorry, Teem. I-I'm so sorry." He breathed unevenly, swallowing against the lump forming in his throat as his hands came to rest on her cool cheeks. She couldn't stay here. He couldn't leave her body like this for the others to find. She deserved respect and admiration, not cringing looks and to be violated again in death.

Red ran a smooth palm lovingly down the length of her thin neck, stopping when something struck him and froze him in his tracks, all expression and pain flooding from his features to be replaced with something deeper. Huh? No, there was no way that could be true. He must have been imaging things to cope with the trauma of losing his oldest friend…still…what _was_ that, then? He scrunched up his face in perplexity and worked off one of his tight gloves, digging his fingers against Teem's jugular to wait, leaning forward and hovering over her still form with bated breath as he hunted for something he was almost sure wasn't there.

_Thump_.

There it was again.

Holy shit…she…she was...

Red glanced down in awe to his wrist gauntlet. It hadn't yet been ten minutes** since her PAK had been damaged by the blast, the faint telltale hum of her lifeline sputtering beneath her, warming him down to his toes as he scrambled to scoop her up into his arms with a shout of surprise laced with panic at the thought that he still had a chance.

She…she was _alive_!

Oh, Irk, what should he do?! What _could_ he do?! Red frantically ran through every option he could think of, reaching back and scrambling furiously to undo the bottom compartment of his PAK with unsteady fingers, eventually prying it off and desperately groping for the connection port keeping his biological body tethered to this appalling galaxy. He let go, rolling Teem's shot riddled body onto her side as he forced himself down against her, tugging free the connector from his own device and immediately feeling the color rush from his face as his hands trembled to throw open his friend's port. Her PAK had been severely disfigured, her attacker's plasma shot raking through the top half of her cognition center to blow it to unrecognizable bits. Still, if there was a chance, Red had to try. He had to try.

He pried open the dented bottom cover of Teem's twisted PAK before tossing it thoughtlessly to the side and removing the tiny connector from her own battered link site, fighting against the strange feeling of mind-numbing tiredness creeping in through his thoughts as he forcibly connected her to his own nervous system, pulling her feeble, flaccid body in against his clinking armor in a tight embrace as he waited. It was weird and strangely personal, the feeling of someone else running deep through his body and dancing with his blood, every synapse in his brain fighting to push her faint pulse back as he willed her on.

Please.

Please…

There was a shattered, sluggish beep resounding from somewhere deep within the jumble of frayed wires and half extended PAK legs hanging limply from his friend's back as Red buried is face in her bloodstained neck, clenching his jaw and immediately pulling away in disbelief when Teem's body gave an involuntary jerk, spasming violently in his strong hold as his lifeforce poured into her war-ravaged figure, forcing her fragile back to vault before she gave a shuddering wheeze of a gasp against Red's skin and her dry eyes flew open in a mixture of bewildered shock and excruciating pain, immediately slurring out a cry of blurry agony before shuddering in the cosmic wind. She was incredibly confused, barely there as she drew upon Red's own memories and code for survival, a bit of his own mind transferring to hers as she struggled to realize who she was.

Red couldn't believe she was still hanging on, surrendering again to his emotions as he tugged her back in while she wailed and writhed against him, going limp once more when her mind numbed and went unconscious against her massive blood loss. She was here…they were here together…but for how long? It had been a full minute already, and neither of them could survive on Red's PAK alone now that he had disconnected himself. They had nine minutes to…to what?

On a whim, Red shook the drowsiness from his mind and forced himself to stay awake through the lethargic, heavy feeling flooding in over his extremities, his armor becoming increasingly heavy against his skin as he struggled to open the communicator in his wrist gauntlet. Teem had said Kez and the others had made it out of the wreckage and rocketed off in their escape pods. There was a PAK technician aboard the IRM's Viral Tank before it went down, and hopefully, he was still alive and out there somewhere.

"Commander Red to IRM." He slurred through the wavering signal, laboring to pick apart the overstimulating drone of static. "Commander Red to IRM."

White noise.

"Please, someone has to be out there." He mumbled, running a soothing palm up the side of Teem's face as she shuddered involuntarily in the insensitive cold. "I'm on the surface of Judgementia's moon. Captain Teem has been severely wounded and I require…I….require…" His perception slipped as he dozed, yanking himself awake and forcing himself to continue. "I…require a medic and…a…um…PAK technician. She's alive and connected to mine but…we have…"

"Commander Red?"

Red battled to flick his antennae forward when a deep, cautious voice resounded through the static, breathless and unconvinced that he was truly hearing what he thought he was.

"My boy! We here were sure you had been killed in the line of duty!"

Red pressed his cheek to Teem's when the familiar conceited, haughty voice washed over him in soothing waves. "Yeah, it's me. Why are you…?"

Prime Minister Sledhob chuckled on the other end of the transmission, his needle-like feet clicking over the grate of what sounded like the bridge of a ship. "Your men made their way back to Inquisitoria after Defense Minister Utna was claimed by the Irken Armada. I am calling all my imperial forces to action to ravage the surface of Judgementia and take the planet in the name of my Empire. We are officially at war." He cleared his throat and took on a more serious note, breathing against his mouthpiece when he heard Red try to speak but lose himself again. "Hold on, Commander. We will be arriving at your location by jump in approximately three minutes with a team of medics and a PAK technician."

"P-Please...when you land on the surface...find Purple. Keep him safe." Red instructed, feeling his legs go numb when his PAK began to beep out frantic warnings. "Please find him for me. I love him...I'm...I'm gonna marry him. Just..."

"Say no more." Sledhob said serenely in a tranquil voice that had put Red's blurry mind to ease. "I _will_ find him."

Red had never been happier to hear the disgusting, overconfident voice of Sledhob in his life. The IRM had actually made it back across the cosmos for help. He smiled faintly to himself and drew Teem back in to the best of his waning ability, running his fingertips up over her frostbitten antennae to try and keep her warm against the quivering wind buffeting them into submission.

This was love. This was the feeling Purple had taught Red to feel so deeply. It wasn't romantic or physical, but something much deeper and profound. He was willing to sacrifice his life to save his friend, something he would have never done a cycle ago should the need arise. It was ethereal, beautiful, and oddly serene, a weighty sense of calm overcoming Red's numbed extremities as his PAK steadily worked to keep her weak heartbeat afloat. He would hold true to his promise.

He would bring her back in one piece...alive.

* * *

**The meager ground force on Judgementia;**

"Sir, I _really_ don't think this is a good idea!" Gorb hissed from behind her medical mask, running her gloved hands down the front of the Elite uniform she had been instructed to strip from the lifeless body of Officer Denk and reluctantly throw on. She shuddered at the stiff sensation of dried blood rubbing against her fragile skin. "Please, you need to rest! Someone will come for us!"

Purple had halfway tugged what was left of his shattered armor back over his bruised body, wincing when one of the panels caught his tender stitches. Gorb watched him closely with a motherly scowl of disapproval as he slung on his heavy toolbelt and latched it securely in the front, shooting her a look of equal aversion when she shook her head.

"Yeah right. I'm not sitting around in this wierd place to wait for whoever. No one knows where we are anyway." He rolled his eyes and returned to fiddling with his gauntlet, trying to remember how to initiate the cloaking technology so they could make their way to the Spike of Judgement and end this horrific daydream. "We need to move so I can get out there and find my idiot husband before he gets himself into something he can't handle."

The foreign word slipped effortlessly from his lips before he could think, shrinking into himself a bit when Gorb flashed him a knowing look, shucking her thin, white medical mask and headlamp to the side as she brandished a small hand mirror and attempted to draw a shaky vision of the Elite crest on her forehead with a few activated charcoal tablets she had crushed from her medical kit mixed with her own saliva. It didn't matter anymore. Everyone in the universe knew he and Red were together anyway, so why not take a leap of faith when they no longer had anything to lose? Maybe it was the exhaustion frying his PAK or the close brush with death clouding his better judgement, but if he said no, at least Purple would have some semblance of needed closure to the unknown. He was ready to make Red his and, hopefully, he would want to be.

Purple swallowed to himself and turned away, grinning in weary relief when he finally pulled up the main electronic menu with a smirk of triumph, scrolling through his options and landing on one that looked like it could be right before squeezing his eyes shut and clicking it. Even if he had to wear the revolting, unusual skin of a soldier half his height that he had never met, he would do it if it meant getting out of here and finally proposing to Red. He missed him, ached to hold him again and hear that unwavering arrogant voice forcing away his fears. But, now was not the time for hesitation or panic; now was the time for action.

"Oh, no, I don't…um…I don't like this at all." Gorb mumbled from behind in a mix of fascinated awe and unnerved sickness. "I don't think it worked right."

Purple tentatively peeled his eyes open with an uneasy, confused blink. He didn't feel any different on a molecular level, but he could instantly feel the cling of static forcing his armor to lay flat against his raw skin as the distorted image flooded his form and turned him into the spitting image of someone else.

…sort of.

He quickly saw what the little drone meant by the hologram not working to the fullest extent and groaned to himself for thinking it would be able to mask something he couldn't change. It was designed for the short, not someone who towered over them and literally had to duck through doors and hatches to avoid smacking himself on the low hanging archways. The virtual image hadn't masked his height but had changed his face and his attire, showing him off as what Denk would have looked like should he hit an implausible growth spurt in the past hour and become something of a mutant over his superiors. It was disturbing and unnatural and, under different circumstances, may have been incredibly comedic. But, at the moment through the danger of their immediate situation, Purple was far from laughing, feeling his spark of hope sink when Gorb stifled a tiny snicker and held up her mirror to the foreign face staring back at him. He frowned, immediately noticing his violet eye color shining back in the ridiculous reflection, another kink in the plan he was sure would have been foolproof. Denk had deep, strawberry eyes like the majority of Irken society, not the revealing indication of a birth defect so rare that not even one percent carried.

He sighed when Gorb tossed the mirror to the side and covered up the evidence and the body with the tinfoil sheet she had used to keep them warm, glancing to the door when a sudden noise rocketed through the air outside, shaking the thin windows with the fervent boom of a shockwave radiating outwards from powerful thrusters. She shot Purple a confused glance and he returned it, reaching for Denk's rifle from the ground as the drone shoved her pistol in her holster and crept cautiously to the window, nearly tripping over her clunky Elite boots as she went. She crouched to her knees, ever so slowly peeking up across the frigid titanium sill to scan the street, grumbling when the skyscraper outside concealed the sky from her watchful gaze.

Purple followed intriguingly as his antennae hummed into the thunderous sound, forgetting his qualms as he strained to see around the hunk of shattered glass and steel keeping the chilly night sky from revealing itself in full. That sound was strangely familiar, but he couldn't place his finger on what kind of ship was making it, squinting when the blinding glare of a deep cerulean searchlight glinted off of the shimmering metal of the bloody streets outside. It wasn't anything he remembered having his oil slick hands buried in, but something cleaner that didn't run on crude petroleum and primitive plasma technology. That was the hum of a reinforced anti-matter converter drawing in large swaths of energy from invisible reaches of the atmosphere, ripping it apart and gliding effortlessly across the surface as it hunted. There was only one empire in the universe that he knew of to date that used that kind of advanced technology.

Purple took off, throwing open the door to the factory despite the sting in his abdomen and immediately glared up at the sky, beaming with a cry of wild elation and overwhelming relief when he realized who it was. It was the Imperial Inquisitorian Armada, the personal, four thousand strong fleet of Prime Minister Sledhob. The pummeled skyline was alight with hundreds of gargantuan ships of all sizes and weights, searching and scanning the surface for life as the intimidating roar of their impervious cannons warmed to authoritarian perfection. Someone had sent for reinforcements! Finally! They were officially back in the game!

Purple laughed to himself and grabbed Gorb by the shoulder, ushering her around the gory carnage as she joined him and eyeing the Spike of Judgement piercing through the swirling clouds and splitting the growing night with millions of pulsing lights.

"Commander Purple?" A gruff, dominating voice nearly made him jump out of his skin as his communicator roared back to life and echoed through the gloomy side street, compromising their already experimental position. He scrambled to dig his goggles out of his side pouch, adjusting the volume in case there were any deadly, terrifying Elite lurking ominously in the shadows before his pulse escalated and he hastily answered. Was that who he thought it was?

"Prime Minister Sledhob?" He breathed in shocked disbelief, pressing his back to the skyscraper and peering tentatively around the corner before signaling Gorb to advance with a nod, sweeping the street with harsh scrutiny as they went and flinching at every breeze and tiny sound prickling over terrified antennae. "Wait, are you up in the air with the fleet?"

"Ah, wonderful! You're also alive! Yes, yes, I am heading my personal flagship from the bridge as we speak." Sledhob sang back with an enthusiasm that gave Purple some much needed normalcy after the mind-numbing torture he had experienced in the past few hours. "I have scrambled a fleet of communications ships to the far corners of the planet. We are back online and ready to send forth a ground force to help you overtake the Spike of Judgement."

Purple wanted to cry at the incredibly uplifting, beautiful news. Things were finally turning around in their favor as he watched in utter amazement and astonishment as thousands of Inquisitorian troops repelled down miles into the distance to rip open the first brutal counter offensive against Pem's ferocious Elite. Incensed gunshots erupted and cracked the night as he moved on, wavering faith and despairing hopelessness pushed away by the glory and irresistible pride of having the flighty support of the infinitely potent Sledhob completely on their side for once.

"Prime Minister, my battalion has been destroyed. I and a single medical drone are all that's left out of the sixty we began with." He explained formally, ducking with a sharp gasp around the sparking hull of a ravaged Spittle Runner when he almost locked eyes with an Elite Sergeant and his men reclining against the edge of a cannon blasted storefront as they chatted. He dropped his voice to a low, strangled whisper as he forced Gorb hard against the freezing ground, clamping a hand over her mouth before she could yelp in surprise and bringing a finger harshly to his lips to keep her quiet. "Sir, I was able to utilize hologram technology to disguise myself as one of the Irken Elite and I'm going to attempt to make it to the Spike of Judgement and bring the mission back on track."

Sledhob made a dark noise in the back of his throat, mulling over whether he should voice is mounting disapproval for his companion's shaky, ill thought out plan. "Are you able to send coordinates to your precise location? I am able to send a reconnaissance team to follow closely behind and ensure that no foul play plagues you."

Purple thought a moment, rapidly going back and forth with himself as to whether it would be wise to have an Inquisitorian ground force following him from the shadows, or if it would only throw more unnecessary risk into the already lethal situation he was waltzing himself into. He opened his mouth to objectively decline, jolting in terror when one of the Elite officers rounded the charred hood and immediately met his wide, horrified gaze with a gawk of surprise, nearly dropping the open tin of candy he had been leisurely munching on. Purple froze when Gorb moved her petite, trembling hand inconspicuously to her pistol, pulse erratic and ready to run for their lives when Sledhob piped up again and tried to gain his petrified attention. The officer's eyes vaulted to the pair of mechanic's goggles clutched in his tight grip before returning to Purple's rigid face with narrowed eyes, looking him over with knifelike examination as he popped another gummy candy in his mouth and smacked on it obnoxiously, only adding to the growing ache to run gnawing desperately at the back of Purple's jumpy psyche.

After what felt like cycles, the soldier blinked, breaking the bewildering tension as a tiny, shrewd beam peaked on his mud-caked face. "Aw man, did you get separated from your troop, too?" He asked with a bizarre cheeriness that set Purple's spooch in knots as he tried to determine if he had been recognized or not. "It's a total madhouse out here right now." The soldier jabbed a jovial thumb over the hull back to the congregation of stout Irkens huddled together passing around war trophies as they waited for backup to arrive and cart them out of the warzone. "You wanna come hang out with the rest of us? We just landed from a mission to the moon, and there's no use in sitting here by yourself."

Purple willed his trembling voice to stay level, forcing his communicator off as Sledhob's baffled, urgent voice called out to him through the internal wiring of the strap. "Oh, yeah, we got separated a few hours ago." He glanced back at Gorb who's tight lips had screwed shut in a forced smile to keep herself from bursting into panicky, frightened tears. "I, uh, took this off of that stupid prick Commander Pem shot a few streets over." He held up his goggles as he grudgingly insulted himself, forcing himself to stand to the fullest extent of his dominating height as the guard stared up at him in dumbfounded awe.

"Holy shit, man." He breathed, looking Purple from head to toe before grinning wildly at his impressive height. "Where were you when we needed help prying the door off that Viral Tank?!" He bellowed, turning on his heel and whistling for his comrades' attention before noisily gesturing to Purple with an ecstatic wave. "Hey, guys! Get a load of this freak!"

Purple followed, each step sending waves of nauseating anxiety flooding through every inch of his pained body as he tried to mask his discomfort at his concealed, still healing plasma shot and his growing apprehensions at the dozens of steely eyes raking over his hopefully stable disguise. Thankfully, the others were just as stupid as he had been hoping, patting spots on the ground with idiotic grins and disgusting fingers coated in crusty, dried blood and goopy sugar from the myriad of soiled snack food containers littering the menacing horde. Each one of them was absolutely filthy, snickering at his height or raising brows to the tiny drone following closely at his heels like a lost hound before blowing suggestive kisses in her direction at the thought of being so close to a female.

"Woah, tall guy. You're a pretty face, huh? I like your eye color." A high-pitched voice rang out stridently as Purple gritted his teeth and bit back the sharp, almost unbearable bite in his shredded abdomen as he sunk down and finally sat. "Where're you from?"

Purple thought quickly as his untamed instincts kicked in, remembering hasty, fleeting recollections of Red telling him odd, one-off stories of his time growing up in the Naphrus Smeetery. "I was hatched in Naphrus." He lied effortlessly through his teeth, growing irritable when a tiny face popped up from further in the crowd with a fat, insufferable grin.

"Hey, me too!" The little guy screeched animatedly, climbing over shoulders and stepping on toes to get to where Purple sat, throwing himself down to his side and nudging him in the ribs, almost drawing a terrible, agonizing whine from his mouth when he clipped the edge of his uneven stitches. "What's your name? We probably went to the same Academy!"

"My name?" Purple repeated suddenly, feeling exceedingly small when messy, chomping mouths stilled and vivid cherry eyes blinked in perplexity at the abrupt stammer to his voice. Gorb shifted anxiously next to him, reaching forward and digging a cheap hard candy from a dusty tin a few feet away from her quivering lap before making a passive attempt at looking unperturbed. He hadn't prepared this far! Dammit, just think! Say something!

"Eh…i-it's Nemia." He blurted out, immediately regretting his carelessness when he realized his grueling mistake.

"_Nemia_?" The officer threw his head back with a rowdy cackle as the name of the science drone who had fancied Purple so long ago aboard the Massive spilled out of his uncomfortable, distressed brain without corollary. "Pfft! That's a woman's name! You mean to tell me you were fitted with a PAK that assigned you a _female's_ name?"

Purple wrung his chilly fingers as his nerves spiked through the clouds, clenching his jaw before someone else piped up and saved him from what he was sure would be his doom, drawing a silent sigh of much-needed relief from deep within his chest as he finally allowed himself to recline fully.

"Speaking of ladies, show him what we got on the moon!"

The soldier shoved him hard in the arm once more with an annoying, overexaggerated laugh, cluing Purple in to the idea that he may have some sort of hierarchy over the group in some way or another. "Oh, yeah! Who's got it this time?!" He hopped up and squinted over the crowd. "You assholes better not be jacking off again! I told you it's mine when we get back to the base and I meant it!"

There was a hot curse shouted back like a piercing arrow, followed by a bright pink sweater tossed over the hooting, whistling throng of degenerates Purple was irritated he had to halfway mingle with. The soldier caught it, bringing his antennae down to sniff over the plush fabric and groaning in appalling extasy when he picked up on the remnants of fear and floral perfume baked into the stitching.

"Still smells like her, too." He chuckled with a coy side glance, tossing the petite article down to Purple as he tried to turn away and hide his escalating disgust.

Purple admitted defeat and flashed him a cheesy grin, trying to show off his false enthusiasm as he held up the little sweater and nearly dropped it back to the filthy ground out of horrid shock when he instantaneously recognized it. It was…no. No. Please, no. He was beginning to feel sick again, terror threatening to bubble up in the back of his dry throat as he blinked away the choking realization that not everyone in the IRM made it out of the horrendously violent dogfight over the surface.

The sweater belonged to Teem.

Purple took a deep breath at the unnerving smell of her gorgeous perfume invading his blown-out senses and only adding to the torture of the dreadful images plaguing his mind. Teem was…no…she couldn't be. He swallowed against his mounting tears when her vociferous, authoritarian voice cried out in his PAK memories, unable to tear his gaze away from the revolting, indicative stains littering the complicated pattern of the delicate stitch work. Oh Irk…had these monsters…had they…

As if reading his mind, the soldier piped back up with a glimmer of nauseating victory shimmering behind his ocular lenses. He threw his hands on his hips and puffed out his wide chest with another condescending chuckle. "I know what you're thinking, and yes, she had the best body in the universe. Too bad you couldn't try it!"

At the mind-breaking comment, the troop erupted in a fit of hideously raucous, animalistic growls and barks, grabbing for the sweater as a fog settled over Purple's thin consciousness, setting him alight with a terrible, insurmountable frenzy and wrath that blinded him to his better judgement and drug out the worst in him. They had raped Teem. Lovely, strong, raunchy Teem and threw her dignity out into the callous cosmos to be taken and ripped to tiny, violated shreds and thrown back into the face of her infinitely compassionate wife.

No. This could…no…_would_ not stand. Not now, not ever.

Without thinking, Purple snatched his rifle and thrust it up under his enemy's sharp chin, squeezing the hair trigger and blowing a devastating hole through his throat to silence his insufferable laughing over his dastardly violation of his friend, taking out the unfortunate officer standing directly behind him as the blast careened through his chest cavity and died away. Gorb immediately jumped to action on impulse when the crowd panicked and screamed at the gory eruption, frantically scrambling for their weapons laying in a haphazard heap against the wall of the storefront. The little medical drone vaulted over the nearest soldier she could lay her hands on, grabbing for antennae and yanking and breaking sensitive fingers when they attempted to land against triggers with a medical accuracy that could frighten even the most stoic of battle-hardened officers. She drew her tiny pistol and aimed for vital organs, splattering liquid fear against steel and spraying souls against sweat slicked skin as she fought. Purple breathed through the pain, ducking just in time to dodge the terrifying downstroke of a sharpened boot knife aiming for his side. He yelped when his cognition flooded back through his rage, kicking him into seething overdrive as he managed to sweep a screeching officer off his unsteady heels and pin him on his stomach against the ground as he thrashed. He scrambled for the knife as his assailant attempted to slash him, crying out in a mix of surprise and agony when someone landed a hard punch to his jaw, rocketing him back to the curb as he reeled from the force of the concussing blow. He struggled to push himself up, grabbing for the nearest object his hands could find and smacking an incoming kick with the ruthless power of a heavy iron bar, cracking his attacker's kneecap and forcing him to wail in gut-wrenching agony. Gorb noticed the commotion and bounded over, sliding and ducking blows and thrashing PAK extensions as she landed the final shot between the officer's wide terrified eyes, maiming him beyond recognition as she and Purple took off in the other direction.

"Pardon my language, Commander," She wheezed pathetically through her horrified tears as they ducked behind a building and continued to sprint on towards the Spike of Judgement quickly encroaching in their sights only a few long blocks away. "But you're a fucking idiot!"

Purple didn't respond, focused on staying composed through the blood leaking through his armor and the pop of his stitches coming undone through the excruciating physical exertion he forced himself to endure. They were so close. He could almost taste the burning gaze of the Control Brains beating down on him from above as he smiled sweetly back, urging them with godlike fingers to descend to their unknowing, painful end.

"Hello there!"

Purple gasped in terrified shock as he was hit hard in the stomach by the unforgiving butt of a stone hard rifle popping out from a dark alleyway, forcing him to his back as Gorb panicked and skidded to a shaky stop. He cried out and scrambled to clutch at the return of a horrible, white-hot pain rocketing back up his throbbing spine, feeling the dreadful, unendurable trickle of blood pouring lazily from his reopened wound as he writhed. Gorb struggled to get to his side, calling out over his screeching distress before a booming shot abruptly cut her off and she fell in a heap to her back, listless, dead eyes staring unnervingly to her Commander as her tiny jaw went slack and thick blood gushed from a single, clean shot through her spooch.

"You know, I just don't get why you won't die." A voice giggled serenely from above as Purple fought once more with his fading consciousness through the pain. "What's with you and that red firecracker traipsing all over my Empire and causing trouble?"

A wide, excited grin appeared over Purple's shell-shocked features, admiring the quickly paling features of his phony image as he stooped and examined his wrist gauntlet, digging open the casing and tugging free the internal wiring with a swift jerk.

"Using my own trick against me? Alright, I have to admit, I'm sort of impressed." Pem chuckled warmly from behind his own lanky hologram, his falsely advertised grin only widening when Purple gave a thick cough beneath him and rolled onto his side, the realization that he had lost his shroud slowly settling in his damaged concentration. "But you should know never to take on the master." He blinked and cocked his head. "Hey…isn't that an actual rule or something? I swear I've heard that before."

"G-Go to h-hell." Purple managed to rasp, shrieking when Pem shrugged through his own distracted attention and bore the sharp toe of his boot down on his captive's blistering side.

Pem nodded and mumbled to himself as he watched Purple desperately struggle for relief with an almost blank curiosity, pulling his rifle free from his strap and raising it to his side as if to tease him with the release of death. "Who knew you had such a pretty singing voice?" He cooed affectionately as he ran his tongue over his teeth. "You know, I was almost sad when I shot you. I went down the street to the little pastry shop on the corner and sat there for a while thinking 'Pem, your really need to get your temper under control.' And you know what I realized? I was totally right! Here I am, going around shooting people without really getting to know their stories first." He gasped at his own shock and rocked forward, putting more agonizing pressure against Purple's now loose stitches. "I already know your story, but there's something deeper to you that I don't understand. I wanna know you, Purple. _Really_ know you. I wanna dig into that PAK and see what makes it tick. So, I wanted to say sorry for shooting you like that without a fair trial." He swallowed with a bizarre sincerity that made no sense and only reaffirmed his delusional insanity, irritating Purple beyond belief as he growled violently through his aggrieved tears. "So, I'm reopening the trial for you and Red at the Spike of Judgement! Cool, huh? I thought it would be fun to watch your own Empire sentence you to death. Oh! I also called in a catering team to make us all dinn-"

"I-I said…g-go to f-fucking hell!" Purple screamed back, clawing at the metallic ankle of Pem's heavy Elite combat boot digging with childlike cruelty into his weeping abdomen.

Pem let up slightly, lowering his rifle and staring down at Purple for a long while with a deep, desolate sadness of realization that he had hoped he wouldn't have to see. He sighed, long and low, and tutted his slimy tongue against the roof of his mouth.

"Geez…do you know how rude it is to say something that foul? Your mother should wash your mouth out with soap." He gasped with a peculiar, genuine surprise before throwing his head back and laughing once more in the disconcertingly revolting nasal tone that had come to haunt Purple's many nightmares. "Wow! S-Sorry! I promise I'm not laughing at you! I just forgot that your idiotic race is born underground to a bunch of pathetic machines!" He hooted wildly at his own ridiculous ignorance, pulling away completely and doubling over in a soft, tepid mirth that unraveled Purple to the core, if there was even anything left to unravel at this point.

He sputtered feebly against the ground as his PAK urged him to remain still, trying to push up but only collapsing once more as his vile arch enemy giggled and blubbered to himself over horrendous nonsense. Purple glanced sluggishly to the side and froze, catching sight of the tiny boot knife that had slipped from Gorb's petite gloves when she swiftly lost her life. He swallowed against the pungent metallic taste plaguing his overstimulated senses and glanced slowly back to Pem, making sure he wasn't watching through his happy tears before he gradually inched his fingers across the smooth metal, tentatively taking the knife before hiding his hand to his side when Pem looked back up.

"Oh, man, you ever crack yourself up like that?" He willed himself down from his Irk-shattering laughter, wiping his eyes on the back of his glove before training his rifle back between Purple's eyes with an enthusiastic squint. "So here's what's gonna happen. You're going to get up and I'm going to walk you into the Spike of Judgement before that idiot Sledhob blows us all to bits. You're going to stand trial and watch as I take over Vort as the ambassador and display the destruction of Inquisitoria over the monitor for everyone to see!"

Purple frowned in confusion, biding his time. He needed to get Pem closer, locking on to the desperation slowly mounting in his squeaky voice at the thought that his once valiant plan may be falling to pieces. He was failing, resorting to an erratic, last ditch effort to violently sting the cosmos and poision everyone in attendance with his growing madness. He was still sweet in the face and composed, but the undeniable twitch in his fingers set Purple to the edge. He was becoming flustered and a flustered madman was a dangerous timebomb waiting to erupt and claim them all.

"Hang on, that doesn't make any sense." He challenged through his discomfort and the sputter of blood leaking from between the panels of his armor. "I thought you wanted Inquisitoria and Irk to destroy each other."

Pem blinked and scrunched up his face when Purple tore open the hectic thoughts he was sure he had concealed, reaching up and scratching at his false antennae as he thought. "Yeah but that...t-that wasn't working out anymore. When Sledhob showed up here and not at Irk like I was hoping, I realized he may have a few more brain cells than I thought." He laughed nervously, his smile twitching as the beginning lines of stress were beginning to appear on his pallid face. "So, now, I'm going just perform a cannon sweep over the surface of Inquisitoria! I've sent a smaller fleet to their planet right now and, while big bad Sledhob is away, there will be no one left to defend them! Oh, but here, my beautiful Control Brains are going to override the collective PAK systems of the Armada and turn them on Irk so we can enslave your planet too!" He sniffed in the cold, turning his attention to an ad paper fluttering down the deserted street. "It was a minor setback, but you forget that I used to be an engineer, tall guy. I was trained to think and map out the complexities of this world. I can see them in my head like a glorious web waiting for me to pluck and rearrange the strings into my own personal masterpiece."

Purple tried not to show fear when Pem inched forward slightly, enjoying the ecstasy of his new diabolical plan unfolding over the antennae of a former Tallest. He had to play this right or he might lose his chance…or actually end up dead this time. "Pem," he began, earning the flighty attention of his captor at the unexpected sound of his name, "I still don't get it. How is that ever going to work? You would have to have every pilot in the Armada in range of the Control Brains for them to override their coding." He mused with a pained stutter, trying to entice him forward.

"That's easy! I called them all in as guests to watch the trial! Your people are so easy to persuade when violence is involved." Pem's eyes lit up with an almost spiritual glow as he basked in the heat of hid dastardly plot. "It's like delicious, scrumptious entertainment. I have to feed the masses what they hunger for, after all!"

Come on. Just a little closer.

Purple held his breath as Pem took another tiny step in his direction, sniggering ceaselessly at the fabricated foolishness of his prisoner and completely oblivious to his tightening grip around his knife as he braced himself. If he could just sink the ruthless blade into Pem's delicate, clammy skin, he could get him out of the way and make it to the Control Brains to somehow get them offline. Wait. An asinine, wholly absurd and incredibly dangerous notion crossed Purple's mind as he locked eyes with the revolting Vortian-turned-Irken hovering above him. He observed him closely for a few seconds, curling his lip when Pem slung his rifle over his shoulders and winked down at him with a sensual smirk of enjoyment. What if he was thinking about this all wrong? Pem was offering to take him to the Spike of Judgement to stand trial and watch the forced reencoding of the Armada and the destruction of his home and his allies. He was _offering_ to take him through those gargantuan doors. _Offering_ to walk him straight through the foyer and _offering_ to position him up on stage to be eyed and toyed with as the damaged pet of the very mechanical dictators he had been trying to desperately get to for hours. He would be so close to their delicate external wiring, so close to the thin glass housing their ocular units.

He would be stupid not to take that golden opportunity, no matter how lethal and irresponsible it seemed. It would be better than wading through the whole of the code-zombified Armada by force and take his chances with being obliterated by searing PAK lasers. Dammit. What had his life come to? Was he really going to play Pem's sadistic games?

"F-Fine. Let's go." Purple reluctantly agreed with a growl, opting to shove the knife through the back vent of his armor and conceal it under his belt amidst his extensive myriad of tools. "I'll humor you for once." Hopefully Pem would take his word as fact in the sloppy, uncoordinated state he was in as his world slowly crumbled around him. Please take it.

Pem looked like he was ready to rocket to the moon, stooping and running a tentative hand up over Purple's pale cheek as his fingers shuddered in anticipation "Mm! You're getting better at playing the game, tall guy! If you said no, I was gonna pop you right between those wide pretty eyes and just be done with you for good. I'm glad you agree that this way is much more fun!" He sighed affectionately and kicked Purple hard in the stitches for good measure, laughing when he cried out in unbridled agony and spat a mouthful of blood to the side before falling limp as he trembled. "No funny business now or that annoying red firecracker will…well…let's just say my eyes and ears in the IRM will be bringing him back to us very, very shortly."

Purple coughed violently and let his head roll back as his vision began to slip. He'd forgotten that Pem had mentioned he had a spy infiltrate the IRM during their training. No. What did that mean for Red? Was...huh? He couldn't think, grumbling weakly when he felt himself slipping back into a fugue. "W-what do you mean?" He managed to slur as a hazy blackness began to creep in at his peripheries. "Wha…?"

Pem hushed him gently with a lingering finger to his lips, twirling his limp antennae with his free hand as he serenaded softly into oblivion, jumping to his feet as he grabbed at Purple's ankles and heaved him on towards the Spike of Judgement, leaving a streak of bright pink blood in their wake as Inquisitorian stingers hovered in just out of sight in the distance.

"Goodnight, sweet king…Goodnight, my love…Goodnight to the world and all the angels above. Serenely we follow…our prophet at hand…as he guides so on to our destined land."

* * *

** I read that it takes 10 minutes for an Irken without a functioning PAK to die.

I said I extended the update for this but I ended up getting it done. Eh. Oh well! Thank you honeys for all the wonderful fanart for this fic you have posted. I really appreciate you so much!

If you ever get the hankering, I would be incredibly curious to see what your renditions of Red and Purple's outfits littered throughout the fic. We've got their armor in the war, their training uniforms on Inquisitoria, their date night attire, Purple's mechanic uniform in the flahsbacks, Red's Elite uniform in the flashbacks, and Purple's outfit when he rescued Red from the Spike of Judgement and smeared his face with eyeshadow like an idiot. But, if not, that's cool too. I'm just curious. You do you loves, and thanks for tuning in to this depressing hour of "My Kind!"

Also highkey excited I tricked so many people into thinking Teem was dead. Gotcha lovelies!

_**Next update: Sunday, November 3, 2019, at 10:00 pm CDT (UTC -5) Stay tuned because the next chapter will be explosive. I'm excited.**_


	23. Reencode Me

Hello my lovelies and welcome back to our bi-weekly posting of My Kind! I wanted to say thank you for your continued support! (I'm beginning to sound like a broken record, huh?)

We have more GORGEOUS fanart! As soon as I saw this pop up on my Instagram, I literally squealed because it's sooo fantastic! Our lovely follower, **Gen (mipexch on Instagram),** recreated the scene in which Purple gets shot in chapter 20! I wanted to link it here for everyone to see because it's AMAZING! THANKS AGAIN YOU GORGEOUS ANGEL!  
: / / w w w . instagram p/B4YHm6qglE9/

**ALSO:** We just hit 200 reviews and over 10,000 total views since this was published! So, thanks a whole lot! I couldn't do this without you guys! And…WHAT'S UP WITH YOU GUYS IN THE REVIEWS WANTING TO FUCK PEM?! SOMEONE EXPLAIN THIS TO ME. I made him to be repulsive as hell and here you adorable people are wanting to screw his psycho little Vortian ass. I guess to each their own; you do you boo. I love you all too much.

**ALSO ALSO:** Welcome **gobewolf** to the follow family and thank you for adding this malicious little fic to your favorites list! You rock angel!

**Chapter rated strong M for graphic depictions of blood/gore/violence, mentions of sexual assault, brief strong language, suggestive themes, and general adult content.**

Another note; this chapter was _**heavily**_ influenced by the song "Darkside" by blink-182. Just thought it had that feel. Not that anyone asked for a playlist for this but eh. Why not? This will be a chapter focusing on what love is in its infinite forms, and we will really begin to see the true extent of how far these characters have developed and learned from one another. Have fun!

* * *

**An undefinable amount of time in the past;**

"We fucked up. We _really_ fucked up."

The halfhearted, passive aggressive resolution finally pierced through the dark as Red took his place back next to his co-Tallest, reaching across the table for his third antacid in the past six hours, reluctantly shoving it in his mouth before slamming his forehead down on the table with an overly animated groan.

"Why the hell did the Control Brains think we would ever be good together?" Red mumbled heatedly into the metal, gripping at his antennae as he tried to hold his boiling fury back. "You ruin everything you touch! If you hadn't let that little idiot out there none of this would have happened!"

Purple had been sitting with his sharp elbows up on the conference table and his head in his hands for over an hour, weakly listening to Red ramble heatedly on and on about the atrocious failure their first joint venture had been as he vehemently paced circles around where they had locked themselves away. Operation Impending Doom was supposed to be the first campaign in cycles to restore the depleted morale of the Irken public since Spork's death and horrible reign of constant, embarrassing failures. All he had ever accomplished were a few meager, under planned social programs for the poor that did nothing to fix their appalling situations and accidentally letting a Vortian rebel group enter the planet's airspace to viciously overtake and destroy a key Smeetery outside of the capitol city of Veloria. The public had lost faith in the government a long time ago, and when Spork finally kicked the bucket and Red had ascended as his successor, the Control Brains were reluctant to allow him to rule alone. He was too unstable for their taste and threatened the already precarious sanctity of the planet's political system. And so, a revolutionary idea was born as the hunt for a second Tallest had ensued, Purple being dragged against his will to Judgementia with three other candidates to stand before his mechanical leaders as his impressive height was measured by a cabinet of fifty advisors, who all came to the consensus that he was indeed the second tallest being in the whole of the Empire, just shy a single millimeter of matching Red's own height. His PAK was then subjected to rigorous tests as the Control Brains snaked and ran their tendrils through his internal wiring, hunting for any flaws or discrepancies in his code. He had feared for his life a few times when they looked generously through each of his memories, somehow bypassing his carefully shrouded sexuality and determining that he and Red would somehow, in some demented way, be compatible to rule together. The idea was that Red's military experience, passion for conquest, and continued compliance would balance out nicely against Purple's humble background, ability to communicate, and emotional intelligence. That had been eight months ago. Now, the both of them were beginning to question the choices of their godlike rulers, tiptoeing around each other's schedules until this awful fiasco finally brought them back together and forced them to finally speak again. Half of the capitol city of Veloria had been destroyed in a freak accident with an unstable soldier currently standing for reencoding to a food service drone on Judgementia, leaving thousands dead and millions without shelter or food. Mass riots had swept the city and crime had gone up a whopping 240% from the last cycle in the past week alone, leaving prisons overcrowded and underfunded as Irkens of all ages scrambled to find some kind of purchase in the mayhem when they resorted to violence against one another.

Everything had been an absolute disaster.

"Red, it's not like it was going to go well anyway." Purple bit back, finally looking up to the pathetic heap his forced companion had become as he drummed his claws incessantly against the table in the infuriating way that always drove Purple up the wall. "You didn't run anything by me…_again_. How was I supposed to know you stripped Zim's clearance to pilot a battle mech if you didn't _tell_ me? Plus, you just slapped the fleet together without assigning anyone anywhere! You were a commander, so why the hell is this so hard for you to figure out? What, did you just expect them to figure it out themselves or-"

"Shut. Up." Red glanced up and shot a maddening glare back in Purple's direction, singing him to the core as he gritted his teeth aggressively before groaning again and rubbing at his temples to try and soothe away the migraine looming over him like a thunderstorm. "Your voice is terrible. There's nothing about you that's even remotely Tallest material. You've never been to war, you barely know how to fly, you failed battle strategy in the Academy, and you can't even recognize something as simple as security clearance! It was posted clearly on his uniform for everyone to see! How could you not know?!"

Purple crossed his arms hotly over his chest when Red slammed a palm down on the table, irritated when his heavy breastplate got in the way and instead letting himself fall back in his chair to state up at the ceiling. "In my defense, I didn't even want this job! I don't care about any of these stupid wars or conquests and, honestly, I think they're a massive waste of time! We should be building up our own planet, not worrying about how to feed others that don't even matter to us!" He tried not to let his distress shine through when his voice cracked, determined to not let Red have the satisfaction of making him cry. "If I had it _my_ way, I would still be a mechanic and be billions of miles away from your dumb ass!"

"Well, you don't get your way, do you? We're stuck together so would you at least try to learn some things about how to rule a planet?! Our people are trying to break down the door to our tower right now and you don't even have a plan on how to fix this mess!"

"Oh, pardon me! I wasn't aware that I had to think of something all on my own! Did _you_ have a plan?"

No response.

"That's what I thought. You're always so hypocritical!"

Purple shook his head in dissatisfaction and scooted his seat back hard, snatching their communal reader from the table before stalking heatedly in the other direction to keep himself from smacking Red hard across the face like the last time things got this intense. He threw open the tinted glass doors leading out to the balcony as Red shouted hateful, immature profanities after him, slamming them shut and immediately throwing himself down on the cool tiled platform to stare out over the broken glow of their once powerful city. It was pathetic and wholly ravaged, sickening him when the realization that half of this appalling calamity was his fault began to sink in for the first time. He had been hatched in the Smeetery under Veloria and he couldn't even keep his own hometown safe. He didn't want to be Tallest, and he knew Red was right about him completely annihilating everything he touched. He was meant to fix searing hot plasma cores, not complicated infrastructures. He was supposed to have oil dripping from his gloves, not the blood of the innocent scattered around the galaxy. He felt out of place in the formality and opulence of the Tallest Tower and the overcomplicated bridge of the Massive, unnerved when Red used military jargon he didn't understand or pointed out that his uniform was clasped wrong. His co-Tallest had practically been groomed for this position for cycles, running through extensive training under the watchful green gaze of Spork, while Purple had been torn from the belly of the Massive one day and expected to know the complex sensitivities of foreign and domestic policies. Nothing about it was fair; Purple didn't belong here…and he certainly didn't belong with Red.

Still, through all the abuse and sadistic hatred thrown in his face, all of the avoidances and heartbreaking disappointments, there was still something about Red that captivated Purple. He was so angry and unhinged inside, a sort of psychological wonder that had Purple wanting to dissect him and finally get to the bottom of who he really was. He'd seen a taste of Red's true personality after he had been poisoned a while back, but since that brief, heartfelt moment they were able to share, it felt like they had taken more than a few steps back. The guy just didn't make any sense, lighting up a room with his charm one minute and falling victim to his bloodcurdling wrath the next. He was ugly yet infinitely beautiful, blind yet profoundly intelligent, and Purple didn't want to admit that those crimson eyes truly had gotten under his skin.

Red ran in his blood, Red ran in his pulse, Red ran in every longing dream tucked away in secrecy for an intimacy he knew he would never be allowed to act upon for fear of his life. Red could never know him…could never know the _real_ him. And so, it stayed a confusing, frustrating, and equally disgusting crush. It's not like the womanizing asshole would ever like him anyway.

It would only be a crush.

Purple glanced back down to the reader in his lap, trying to push the numb longing to have his life restored and the bizarre ache for a man he would never know to the back of his exhausted mind, clicking it on and running back over the financial reports their advisory team had generously put together in a last ditch effort to try and prompt him and Red to work together on a solution to bring aid to Veloria. He couldn't think, feeling his head swim with globs of dense information he wasn't ready to handle, deciding to shut down the program and root through the Irken collective for anything he could find to ground himself. Right now, all he needed was an escape.

* * *

Red felt his antennae twitch subconsciously as the sound of heavy drums and vibrant guitar riffs wafted and bounced through the conference room, trying to hone in on where the peculiar sound was echoing from with a perplexed frown. He peeled his jaw from the crook of his arm and squinted to where Purple had run away to, barely able to see his silhouette through the murky glass and blinking in uncharacteristic surprise when he recognized the rebellious lyrics to the punk rock sound sending him back to his days as a pilot when he would blast music in his visor as he chased down his enemies. It was Chasing Cobalt, a band generally popular with the Irken counterculture movement with a reputation for being incredibly controversial and anti-government, not something a Tallest should necessarily be listening to. Who knew Purple had such strong taste?

Red listened for a few minutes in silence, staring down at his hands when the song changed for the third time, his anger finally coiling back down in the pit of his stomach to bring out his rational, level-headed logic once more. Purple was an infantile, excessively opinionated, emotional joke of a dock rat turned leader who couldn't even recognize the differences between a classified docket and a lunch menu if it was put in front of him. He still didn't know the names of any of their battle mechs or tanks, still didn't know how to formally address their advisory cabinet, and didn't know how to sign a simple declaration of war. Still…was it _really_ his fault? Red tried to think about things sensibly for a second without letting his resentment get the best of him, becoming steadily aware that he was fighting a losing battle…and that it may be his fault instead. Purple hadn't been properly trained and had essentially been thrown into the thick of an Empire ready to collapse from the sheer, crushing weight of its own diplomatic strain and overwhelming territory it had no way to economically support. There would be no conceivable way that he would know how to deal with anything of that caliber when he had only ever served the Armada with power tools, and Red hadn't exactly been there to teach him the ropes. After his suicide attempt, he had began to begrudge Purple for everything he was; he was happy with his own image and the way that he looked, happy with his job and incredibly apt with machinery, and seemed to have everything in his life relatively figured out when Red felt like he was teetering in between societal pressure and his own mental instability. When they became Tallest together, their ascension had hammered the last nail in the bitter coffin Red had been determined to bury their threadbare relationship in. Even so, he couldn't deny the obvious.

He was jealous of Purple.

He was so exceedingly book smart that he consistently blew away the engineering team downstairs and was beautifully eloquent with words and his ability to colorfully communicate swathes of complicated information to even the most dimwitted servants aboard their ship. His ability to give moving speeches and address the public from a relatable position was probably the only thing keeping their approval ratings from plummeting to the iron core of their planet, and Red had secretly admired his lithe prowess. Red was crude, rude, and so far from emotional intelligence that it was almost excruciating to hear him try and explain what he was feeling; someone would have more success conversing with a boulder. He had taken out all of his frustrations on Purple when all he had done was try his best to provide for him and the Empire with the meager information and training he had been given, making Red cringe where he sat when he realized how much of a abysmal, inexcusable co-leader he had actually been for the past eight months. He'd become something of an abuser to Purple, and he had to find a way to mend things if they were ever going to be able to co-exist in the same room without going at each other's throats in a constant, bloody war of unnecessary dominance.

He blinked when the black mini fridge under their improvised snack table caught his indignant notice from across the room, drawing him in from where he sat to dig through the paltry contents with unusual inquiry. After thinking long an hard over his choices, Red pulled out two strawberry wine coolers and took a deep, contemplative breath, running through putative, but pitiful, apologies in his head as he crossed to the balcony but coming up short with the proper words every time he almost found them. The music was far too loud, clouding his better judgement as he held the neck of one of the chilly bottles in his teeth to free up a hand, throwing open the door and almost laughing when Purple yelped and panicked. He stumbled about awkwardly and tried with increasing apprehension to turn off the insidious, boisterous sound and mask his own embarrassment at listening to something so intense. He finally managed to click off the reader and hide the screen from view with a thick, childish pout before turning away and inching gradually towards the guardrail of the breezy terrace, peering out through the steel rungs to try and look busy in an attempt to get Red to sense his frustrations for once.

Red pulled the skinny bottle from between his teeth and held up with a forced smile, feeling himself break out into a cold sweat when Purple merely stiffened and curled his knees up to his chest. "Hey…eh…. you wanna take a break from all this drama?" Red mumbled the hasty suggestion under his breath, unsure if Purple had actually heard him or if he was simply choosing not to. "I brought alcohol."

"That's what I was doing. Without you." He grumbled back, moving to sling his long, lean legs through the slats of the rungs to put his weight against them as he glared down the ominous three hundred story drop yawning below him. "And I don't drink."

Red allowed his painfully stiff shoulders to relax slightly as he strained to throw out a halfhearted chuckle. "Everyone drinks under the right circumstances." He sighed and gingerly lowered himself down in defeat, staying back a few feet for good measure to try and entice his downtrodden co-leader over to little success. He thought a moment, popping is own drink and staring blankly out over the skyline as he let his fake demeanor fade. "So…where were you hatched?"

Purple scoffed in irritation to himself and gripped at the bars. "Why do _you_ wanna know? You've never asked before, so what changed?"

"I dunno…I guess if we're gonna be Tallest together I should know who you are and you should know me. I mean, we have to share a room, so why shouldn't I get to know you?"

Purple grumbled hotly under his breath, eyeing a few zipping Spittle Runners below before swallowing. "I've known you for almost two full cycles and you've never wanted to know anything about me. All you ever did was try to get me to join the Elite because you were impressed with my height, or comment on how awful my uniform looked after work." He reminded, hoping to somehow sting Red into submission. There was a pause as Purple fought with this own internal conscious. "But…if this is your way of saying sorry, I guess I forgive you."

He took a swig, blinking in surprise when Purple finally pulled his legs back up and shot him a furious glare over his shoulder, extending a firm hand out as he stared him down. Red tried not to smile as he worked open his companion's own bottle before succumbing to a wide grin when he moved to position himself a few feet away. "So…"

Purple rolled his eyes and reluctantly took his drink, giving it a tentative sniff with his antennae before sticking his tongue out in disgusted loathing and setting it down against the cool tile with a faint clink. "The first thing you should know about me is that I hate strawberry." There was a hint of light comedic humor to his voice as he slid the chilly bottle back over to Red.

"More for me, then!" Red taunted lightly, chuckling at the tremendous effort it was now taking for Purple to hold back his own beam. "What do you like? I'll put it on the list to order next time."

Purple rested his back against the building and moved a bit closer, gradually easing into the new, curious atmosphere blooming like a morning glory between them. It was strangely comforting to hear Red's voice vaulting over his antennae, a strong, weighty anchor keeping him tethered to the surface amidst the chaos they had unintentionally brought over their crumbling Empire.

"Sugar beer from Yaga Minor." He replied slowly, staring down as he toyed with his fingers in his lap. "And can we please get those cheap glazed donuts back down in the mess hall? I was pretty pissed off when they took them off the menu."

Red laughed warmly, melting and liquifying the final block of frigid emotion hanging on by unsteady fingers against their skin. "Sure. I don't think that would be hard to get back. Um, so where _were_ you hatched?" He repeated the same question from before, trying to dive a bit deeper than the hesitant surface to finally get to know the steely mechanic that had somehow captured his flighty attention so long ago.

"Veloria."

"Wait, you mean here?"

"Yup. In Veloria 1."

"Holy shit. That's the most prestigious Smeetery on the planet. No wonder you're so pretty. Must be all the high-class DNA."

"Y-You think I'm pretty?"

"Oh. Huh. I guess? I've heard hundreds of girls around here comment on how easy on the eyes you are."

"A-ah, girls, yeah….t-thanks."

"I was hatched in Naphrus at Smeetery 4,885. My DNA is pretty bottom of the barrel. We got the donors that were rejected from every other Smeetery and patched it together to make something halfway useable."

Purple looked back up, trying to smooth away the embarrassing twinge of color from his cheeks as Red looked him over with an uncharacteristically gentle smile. "You're a country boy? I would have never guessed." He made a lighthearted attempt at a tease and, surprisingly, Red let him have his fun. "You don't look or act bottom of the barrel. As much as I hate to give you the satisfaction, you're…um…really handsome. And, I can't believe I'm saying this, but you're one of the smartest Irkens I've met in a while, even if you are a total asshole. It's sort of refreshing to talk to someone who isn't as dimwitted as the rest of the dock team for once."

Red leaned forward, brushing their shoulders on accident before taking another sip of his drink. "Everyone says that, but I had to work really hard to get to where I am. I was awful in the Academy with things like communications and math and, believe it or not, but my instructor actually thought I was stupid for a while because of how bad I was at paying attention. I could never get my handwriting to look nice or piece together long equations like everyone else could. Ugh, I hated math." He snorted to himself in an attempt to subdue a nervous laugh, failing miserably. "You have a favorite subject?"

Purple moved into the fleeting touch, relishing in the rare, balmy warmth of Red's body so close and losing himself to his heat. "I had a few actually. I wasn't ever good with battle strategy or hand to hand combat like you were, but I was top of my class in theoretical physics and aerospace engineering. I guess I liked aerospace engineering the most."

"Geez, nerd, that's some heavy stuff. So you're some kind of secret super genius then?"

"I wouldn't say genius, necessarily. Just…no, alright. I am a genius."

"And apparently modest as hell, too. Ok, next. What's your favorite color?"

"Red."

"Good taste. Favorite music?"

"Don't laugh, but I really like punk rock."

"Why would I laugh? I'm trying to get to know you, so I want you to be honest. Plus, it's kinda cool you never got over your rebellious phase. What about…a hidden hobby you have? And when I say hidden I mean it, like something you've never shared with anyone else."

"Geez, why'd you have to ask something so hard?" Purple had to wrack his brain for a few minutes, running back through his time on the Massive and before to try and think of something other than dismantling ships that he was good at. No one had ever taken interest in what he enjoyed beyond his profession and thinking about who he was at his core was proving to be infinitely more difficult than he would have ever imagined. "You go first."

Red went to retort at the sudden shift but instead rolled his eyes, sinking into his armor with a grumble under his breath when he realized his own attempts to unravel his growing friend had backfired on him. "You're gonna think it's stupid." He mumbled unenthusiastically, losing to his own game.

Purple giggled at the obvious embarrassment staining Red's features, reaching forward and brushing an experimental finger over his wrist gauntlet to try and tease him into talking, blinking nervously when he didn't pull back. He felt a sudden surge of unabashed bravery overcome him and begin to gnaw at the bottom of his spooch when he felt his ardent gaze unconsciously flittering down to Red's frown, running the length of his lips when his hotblooded pulse escalated and pounded through his veins, making him uncomfortably dizzy. No. Stop it. None of this was allowed. He wasn't allowed to feel things like this over someone so unlike his kind; they were disgusting and wrong and if Red ever found out he would surely execute him on the spot. Still, the lucid, boiling sensation of not knowing how Red would feel pressed against him, of not knowing what he would look like over a candlelit date, of not knowing what their palms would feel like pressed together stabbed repeatedly at his emotions and broke him down in the worst of ways. All he had to go on where the hundreds of tiny, aggravating rumors spread by ditzy female cadets and captains over how lavish Red's dates had been or how well-practiced he was with his mouth and hands. Why? Why did Purple want this idiot more than he wanted to breathe? Why was it so irritating, yet so uplifting?

Maybe he could just…just one little….

He let his uneasy fingers trail down to inch over the back of Red's hand, feeling him twitch in response to the new feeling before he let Purple shakily entwine their fingers together. He held his breath to the fresh, treacherous feeling and returned his jumpy attention to the familiar skyscrapers in the distance as a way to try keep himself from fluttering away into cloud nine when Red grazed a slow, leisure thumb over his knuckles, feeling every ridge and tendon and unintentionally exploring him through the leather of his glove. Purple had to remind himself on a hectic loop that it didn't mean anything when he didn't know what to do, licking his lips and urging himself to calm and realize that friends held hands all the time. It was normal…where he most certainly was not.

It would never mean anything.

"I like to read." Red finally piped back up, breaking the excruciating silence with his mellow voice. "S-Specifically fiction and, um, crime novels. I've sort of kept my book collection a secret since we moved in to the same quarters but-"

"You don't have to keep it secret." Purple blurted out through his nerves, going stiff when Red repeated the same unintentionally loving motion and practically vaporized him like defrosting icecream. "It's not stupid to like to lose yourself to different worlds. You should put them out on the shelf when we get back. If anything, you'll think my hobby is stupid."

"What is it?"

"Um…I…well…I like to…paint."

Red stifled a laugh, squeezing around his hand as he sputtered and doubled forward, nearly dropping his wine cooler before squeezing his eyes shut. "Hold up, _you_ like to _paint_? I would have never guessed that." He snickered obnoxiously, completely oblivious to Purple's steadily mounting irritation when he heatedly ripped his fingers away and crossed his arms back over his chest in dissatisfaction.

"Shut up! I don't do it anymore anyway." He huffed with a furious snap, watching Red out of the corner of his eye when he yawned and slumped back, moving to take up the second bottle Purple had refused to drink while they admired the beauty of the violet Irken sunset.

"I didn't say it was a bad thing. I was just surprised that someone like you is so…multi-talented. Maybe we can get you a brush set or something and you can show me sometime." He grinned warmly and drew Purple back in, eyes burning with a delighted amusement his co-Tallest hadn't ever seen. "I don't think I've ever actually come out and said this before, but you're pretty cool, Pur."

"Pur?"

"Oh…sorry. I don't know where that came from."

Purple felt his apprehensions flood away once more; he was the ebbing tide and Red was the unforgiving ocean sweeping him away with every rip current and swell. "No, no. It's fine. I kind of like it actually. It has a weird ring to it." He flashed Red a silky smile and went to push himself up, extending a hand down with a tiny giggle.

"Come on, Red. We have an Empire to fix…together."

* * *

**Sledhob's personal flagship;**

When Red finally awoke from his lucid dream, he had been shrouded in the comforting warmth of a shaggy Inquisitorian fleece and propped up gingerly in a recliner to stare up at the ceiling. He groaned and pushed himself up on his sore elbows, feeling his ravaged joints pop under the stress and wincing at the pull of a thick glucose IV tugging at his veins from his arm when he realized where he was. He had been transported to a sterile med bay somewhere, glancing groggily about at the cherry red and bright cerulean motif that quickly gave away his growing suspicions. Inquisitorian. Sledhob had found them after all. His battered armor had been stripped and tossed carelessly onto an adjacent table and he had been shrouded in some kind of long, navy blue silk, probably from the Prime Minister's private collection, and a weighted Inquisitorian pendant that hung limply to the side and comfortably cinched his waist. His bare shoulders had been cloaked with a thick kaftan of smooth green scales and his chilly feet hands had been left bare.

"Finally, you're awake." A raspy accent shivered from his left with a whooping cough.

Red painfully forced himself to his other side, pushing up completely on unsteady arms and slinging his feet over the edge of his plush seat, grinning when he realized who had called out to him. It was Lard Nar, revived from his trancelike high and restored to his typical, sensible self through a single sickening shot of Narcan to the arm. He didn't look all that great, pale and gaunt with horns made flaccid from the ripping exhaustion of his mind-numbing trip. He too had been dressed in Inquisitorian clothing, soft child's robes slung over his narrow shoulders and tiny black boots laced up to his knees as he watched his friend inquisitively. He smiled faintly back when Red gave a small chuckle of relief to the pallid light, eagerly reaching down into his own seat for a carefully balanced mug of rapidly cooling black coffee and a single vanilla snack cake wrapped in plastic that Sledhob's advisor had been generous enough to bring them. He extended them out genially to his tall friend, glancing back to his lap out of amusement when Red ravenously tore into the package and sunk his teeth into the exotic, sugary goodness he had come to crave.

He took a few sips of lukewarm coffee before freezing completely and coming to his senses through his medication induced inebriation. He forced himself to swallow and gripped nervously at his mug, flashing Lard Nar a look of sudden terror when he didn't feel the telltale connection of a warm body hooked to his. There was no one secured to his PAK. "Where is she?" He blurted out against his will, spinning faster than he was prepared for and spilling a few splashes of bitter liquid to the floor. "Lard Nar where is she?!"

Lard Nar held up his hands in uneasy defense at the rapidly escalating situation, willing his companion to calm his frayed nerves before he had one of his infamous emotional meltdowns. "Calm down, Captain Teem is back on Inquisitoria undergoing repairs. She's in dire shape, but the last I was told, she was thankfully stable." He flinched when Red practically fell forward in weightless relief, reaching out speedily to catch him with a tiny palm to his chest. "The technician said you found her less than forty-five seconds before she went offline. If you hadn't done what you did, she would be dead."

"Commander!" A tiny voice squealed from the open hatch, followed by the hasty sound of clicking heels. "Oh, goodness, thank you! Thank you for saving my wife! I-I don't know what I would have done if you didn't find her!"

Before Red could react, Kez screamed and threw herself upon him, knocking his mug to the floor where it promptly shattered, squeezing him into an impressively strong embrace and bursting into a fit of hot, untamed tears. She reached up to frantically snatch him by the collar and drug him down hard into her grip, planting a sloppy, ecstasy driven thank-you kiss to his lips before immediately pulling away with a nervous laugh when she realized what she had done. Red blinked, unsure of how he was supposed to respond to someone so adorably tiny laying one on him, glancing up at Lard Nar through his shock and only earning an indifferent shrug in return.

"A-Ah! I'm so sorry! I just…I just can't thank you enough for what you've done for us!" She bawled, crumpling back down against his lap as she sobbed out her exhilaration and shook from the sheer force of consoling support she found in him. "Thank you, Red! Th-hank you!"

Red clenched his teeth to the uncomfortably ghastly display unfolding against his robes, trying to hide his revulsion and lack of emotional intelligence at what he was supposed to do in return. He settled for a quick pat to her back, pulling back and helping her stand from where she blubbered incoherently before returning her gawky, discomfited smile. Purple was right…these beings were their friends.

Wait…where was Purple?

"You're welcome, Kez, but," he began nervously, attempting to stand and grumbling to himself at how much the PAK salvage had taken out of him. "Is Purple here? Can I see him?"

Lard Nar and Kez exchanged an uneasy glance, the tiny Irken pulling back to wipe away her stifling liquid emotion before shifting awkwardly on her feet and throwing her hands respectfully behind her back. "Sir, the last spoken transmission we received from Commander Purple was over two hours ago."

Red felt his entire world shatter, slowly lowering himself back down as he stared in a mixture of dismay and overpowering anguish at his feet. Two hours? Two hours since any signal had been heard at all? Where was he? Was he hurt? Was he captured? Was he…_alive_? Red felt himself begin to spiral into a horrific panic as gruesome, grisly images of his lover laying lifeless in the streets of Judgementia plagued his already weary mind, his once beautiful skin splashed with vibrant pink blood and torn to shreds by the heartless, soulless clutches of the Irken Elite. Had they done the same nauseating, vile things to Purple that they had done to Teem? Had they held true to their claims that they were going to use his mouth to…He clamped a palm over his mouth when a wave of chilling sickness washed over him and split his rational judgement in two. Was…was Purple laying nude in a ditch somewhere like his friend had been, splayed revoltingly in his own blood for the rest of the cruel, unkind world to laugh at and spit on? Red felt his hands grow unbelievably jittery and numb to the traumatizing thought, bright tunnel vision creeping in at his peripheries as he jumped back to his unsteady feet and yanked hard at his IV, tearing it from his sensitive skin as Lard Nar panicked and tried with a concerned shout and flailing hands to get him to sit back down and think things through.

"W-Wait!" He cried out suddenly as Red wiped away the thin trickle of blood oozing lazily from the crook in his arm. "He said he was going to the Spike of Judgement with a medical drone!"

Kez nodded wildly, taking a few steps back at the terrifyingly malicious look crossing over her Commander's war-ravaged, despoiled face. "If you would listen, sir, Prime Minister Sledhob's men have been attempting to break through the Elite at the Spike of Judgement for nearly an hour now! I-I locked on to the ping radiating from Purple's goggles! They think he's alive and have been holding off on performing an air strike against the building until they can confirm otherwise!"

"All the more reason for me to find him." Red growled resolutely, snapping for Lard Nar to follow and satisfied when he gave a firm nod and hopped up, trailing at his heels the entire way to the hatch.

"W-Wait! Please!" Kez chased after them, wavering a moment and staring up at Red with wide, cherry eyes. She took a deep breath and reached down to her ankle, brandishing her personal boot knife with a steely determination that had a swelling pang of gorgeous pride reverberating in Red's chest. "You're not just my friend anymore, Red. Lard Nar taught me what a family was when we were training together and…" she paused with a sudden grin, throwing her free hand on her hip. "_We're_ family. You both, Purple, Teem, and I are all family. We have to stick together no matter what, and I won't let you go down there by yourselves."

Kez reached up, nodding for Lard Nar to do the same and smiling lovingly in the pale glow of the light when her antennae flicked forward into the unbelievable determination pouring off of his tiny form. He grinned back and thrust his hand up against hers, glancing up and watching with surging entertainment as Red curled his lip in discomfort to the exceedingly affectionate…whatever it was happening below him.

"Come on, Red." Lard Nar prodded steadfastly, extending up on his toes as Kez did the same. "We all know Purple would do it." He paused, a much better, deeper idea crossing his mind as his horns twitched expectantly. "We should perform Yult'nab."

"Yult…nab?" Kez repeated in broken Vortian, rolling the outlandish word over her tongue in uncertainty. "I don't know what that means."

Lard Nar straightened up, pulling his hand away for a moment and working off his tight gloves. "It's a ceremonial tradition between my people when you wish to become eternally connected with someone and truly accept them into your life as family." Without warning, he bit down hard on his hand and drew blood, tiny rivulets of deep purple dripping into his free hand to form a miniscule pool. "We mix our blood and smudge each other with the very life force that keeps us tethered to this world. Then, we will forever be known as the same soul."

Kez blinked when Lard Nar delicately took her hand in his, waiting for approval before grazing his needlelike teeth over her soft skin and quickly pricking her, earning an injured peep from her mouth as he cupped her wound with his smooth fingers, taking a deep breath when her vivid blood swirled against his in his palm, creating a stunning, dancing pool of murky souls contrasting and joining as one in a bizarre, comic display of pure devotion. Finally, Lard Nar turned his resolute fortitude on Red, staring up at him and extending his free hand to complete the concoction and bind them forever.

Family.

Irkens didn't have families. That word was foreign and tasteless in their society, a slanderous insult used to describe the multi-faceted units of individuals naturally birthed to one another. It was a primitive act of devotion between beings, something that Red had always thought through the entirety of his existence to be a weakness. Irkens were strong because of their abilities to be completely solitary should the need arise, going on for cycles upon cycles at a time without contact with the outside world on dangerous missions alone to perilous, faraway planets. It was in their coding, in the very thing that made them who they were….but Red was beginning to view the universe with different, fresh eyes. Since Purple had saved him from the dastardly evil of the Control Brain's collective, he had thought he had grown to be softer, weedier even, as unexpected emotions and profound, existential thoughts about what it meant to be alive swamped him and pulled him down through the mud. He had initially seen it as a weakness when he and Lard Nar laughed over old war stories in Sledhob's library, or when Kez had attempted to teach him how to bake pastries for the first time for himself. He had initially seen it as spineless when he was called to rely on Teem's impressive military history to teach him new flight maneuvers, or when he had given in to the tender hands of his beaming mate pulling him in for a delicate slow dance in the privacy of their room. But now, an epiphany struck him, something so bottomless and unfathomable that he knew he had either gone mad or finally awoken to the true beauty of the universe.

Divided, they would crumble to dust.

United, they would overcome any mountain in the star system.

This was love….this was family.

Red felt an undeniable peace come over him as he slowly extended down his hand, wincing at the sharp bite of Lard Nar's notched teeth sinking into his flesh before he pulled back and allowed his friend to add the final droplets to their holy mixture of individuality and bottomless love. There was something immensely spiritual about the whole process as Lard Nar dipped a thumb in the tiny pool and smeared it between his eyes, gently pulling Kez in and doing the same to her. A Vortian, the very beings that Red had despised for so long, cared so deeply for him that he wanted to engage in the tremendous sanctity of something never before performed on an Irken. He was a pioneer…a brother. He had never had a brother before, but the amorous, extremely doting connotation of the magnificence behind the word was more than he could have ever hoped for. For the first time in his life, Red had a true home. He had a home in his future fiancé, and he had a home in his family.

"You're now my sister." Lard Nar breathed, closing his eyes and bringing their foreheads tenderly together before running a soothing, infinitely adoring touch over her rosy cheek.

She yielded to another warm round of crying, silent tears fluttering from her long eyelashes to land quietly against his lips as he pulled back and licked them away, motioning for Red to stoop to his height. He did as he was told, shivering into the bizarre wetness of the ancient mark painted tranquilly against his brow and the feeling of a tiny hand against the back of his neck, drawing him down to seal their incredible, prevailing alliance of the soul and to relish in the feeling of once foreign skin pressed to one another. They shared the same blood, the same veins, the same lives.

"You are now my brother." Lard Nar held firm for a long moment, choking on his own overpowering emotion. "I lost everything to Pem and the Empire, but I feel like I've just now found it again. I don't care what you say, or what you do, or even who you were in the past. I'm going to follow you to the dark side, Red, and any time you need me, any time you call, I will be there."

Red nodded slowly against him, finally peeling back and standing tall with a powerful, renewed sense of wholeness and belonging that he never thought he would have. He gave a final glance to the two petite, determined beings riling themselves up for violent warfare at his heels, before grinning and taking a step forward towards the open hatch, immediately stopping when a familiar Vortian face popped up in the doorframe to halt him in his tracks.

"Come with me." The little translator asked in his usual monotone voice, thumbing something in the pocket of his long, dark jacket as he watched the three closely, narrowing his eyes in loathing at the blood streaked over their skin when he realized they had performed such a sacred act. "I said come with me. Now."

"Sqorb?" Lard Nar asked slowly with mounting bewilderment, irritated that the little Vortian from the translation bay back on the Massive would have the nerve to try and stop them when their family was in peril. "Pardon us, but we really need to get down to the Spike of Judgement."

"I know." Sqorb mumbled out in stoic agreement, tugging at the fabric of his pocket and revealing a small Irken P-33 plasma pistol, holding it casually to his side as he stared up at Red with a blank, unnervingly bored expression. "If you try anything and I don't take you down to the Spike of Judgement, Purple dies. You hurt me, he dies. You try to alert the crew, he dies. I would suggest you follow my Commander's orders if you want to hear his annoying voice again."

Purple was alive? Thank the universe! Red swallowed, still wholly confused by what had transpired and trying to piece together why Sqorb was doing what he was doing. He had worked on the Massive for cycles before it had blown and had defected to join the IRM after he and Purple had been dethroned as Tallest. Oh geez. He reached up and smacked himself on the side of the face, appalled at his own ghastly ignorance. He had been a spy for the New Resisty and now Pem's monstrous, destructive Empire.

Great…just great.

Red stared him down for a long second, trying to break his tough outer shell before reluctantly complying through his own growing nervousness. He couldn't risk the life of his partner, not when his condition was unknown. He could be barely hanging on somewhere, slipping quickly to nothing without Red there by his side to breathe life back into him. He couldn't let that happen…he couldn't let Purple fall victim to Pem's ruthlessness like so many others had. He would get to him, and he would save him from this place.

"Fine. Let's go."

* * *

**Judgementia; the Spike of Judgement;**

Purple had barely hung on to his wavering consciousness for over two incredibly agonizing hours now, slipping and trembling dangerously atop his judgement platform as Pem watched him with impulsive, capricious enthusiasm from his high seat next to the Control Brains. The brains hadn't awoken yet, slumbering shells of metal and thick wiring as they hummed lowly in the blinding light. Purple could hazily recognize the sound of a prolonged, ferocious firefight at the steeps outside the main foyer, the barking of the flowy Inquisitorian language muffled by the screams of the Elite pushing back against their advance. From what he could feebly hear against his drooping antennae, the merciless battle had come to a ruthless stalemate, both sides losing swathes of trained soldiers but still refusing to budge. The Armada had been tenderly instructed by Pem to remain in their positions behind the main stage to wait out the arrival of their other guests before the mock trial could finally be under way, and Purple had been forced to stand against his will as his precious blood leaked in continual, lethargic pools to his feet. He had been stripped completely of his armor and underclothes in an attempt to utterly humiliate him in front of the whole of his malicious former Empire and soldiers, tiny snickers and sadistically contented points jabbed up at him from below as he teetered on precarious feet in the frigid air. His PAK had been fitted with a pin to keep it from healing his body at a rapid rate, much like the one Slad Nuch had shoved in Red's PAK during their torture at the Naphrus research facility, and he was beginning to feel unbelievably drowsy and hideously cold with every passing minute. Every time he tried to sit down, a guard would appear behind him with an electric poker and threaten him with the hiss of thousands of blazing volts of searing electricity, forcing him back to his feet to wait for Pem's spy to retrieve his partner.

Purple had silently begged the universe to allow Red to remain hidden. No matter how badly he wanted to feel his arms again, to hear his conceited voice soothing away the pain, he had to stay out of sight and away from this place. Pem had mentioned that he was reopening their trial before the Control Brains, but Purple had the unsettling, crushing feeling that something was terribly amiss within his gentle words. Pem was a complex, thoroughly confounding individual who liked to play games and abuse others for the maddening fun of it; something as simple and lawful as a basic trial didn't seem like it would be his cup of tea. He had been careless enough to leave out Gorb's boot knife and his mechanic's belt on the ceremonial hood pedestal perched on the main stage…or _was_ it carelessness? Knowing Pem, everything had been meticulously planned down to the placement of Purple's bare feet and the angle of his chair bowing over the eager crowds, a web of carefully strung threads and he was the venomous spider waiting to pounce. He was hiding something, and Purple was too weak and drained to piece together what it could possibly be at this point. How could he conceivably get worse?

The back corridor behind the stage swung open and the sound of several pair of boots and one set of barefoot soles padded lightly across the sprawling platform, ushered angrily into the light by a familiar Vortian translator that Purple immediately recognized from training on Inquisitoria over the past six months. He blinked a few times, trying to squint through the harsh light and feeling his weak pulse flutter when his raw eyes landed on the lean figure and furious scowl of his partner.

"Red?" He rasped out, taking a precarious step towards the edge of his platform and smiling faintly when his lover's antennae instantaneously perked and his attention snapped up at the feeble sound of his pathetic voice. Was this a mirage or was it real? Was he here? Could they finally be within reach of one another again? "You…is it actually you?"

Red ran his terrified gaze over the extensive, nauseating damage that Pem's dastardly army had done to his undeserving partner, from the deep gash of a plasma shot weeping in his bleaching side to the myriad of sickening tiny cuts and flowering bruises blooming over his brutalized jawline. His lip had been split in two deadening places and his entire nude form trembled from a deadly mixture of bitter cold and unfathomable blood loss.

"Purple?" Red breathed out in horrified response, not once tearing his eyes from those dwindling lavender seas he had longed to see once more, pushing past Sqorb without any sense of consequence and sprinting across the stage to where his wavering lover remained precariously against the edge of his stand.

Sqorb cocked his pistol and aimed with a domineering squint, frowning in complacent displeasure when Pem held up a hand with a smug grin, bringing a finger to his lips to hush him softly before turning his attention back towards the real life drama he had come to enjoy with callously prying, hungry eyes. Red ignored him completely, reaching up for Purple in a frenzied panic and grabbing him by the shoulders as he struggled to bend and throw himself down into Red's hold before he burst into tears against the scaly kaftan shrouding his form. Red held him close when he buried into his neck to sob through his agonizing torture, going near limp in his hold when the pain threatened to overtake him again.

"Oh Irk, Pur. You're so cold." Red snatched at his icy hands, pulling them up towards his mouth to warm them with his gentle breath as he spoke against his fingers. "I should have never let you come down here. It's gonna be alright now. I'm gonna get you out of here and-"

"Oh, I wouldn't be so sure about that." Pem chuckled ominously from above, snapping for Sqorb to move off from the stage and join the Armada waiting in misunderstanding below. "You're back on trial, my friend! Don't you remember the Imperial Law? As a war criminal and now a defector to the Inquisitorian Empire, our adversaries in these times of war, you are required to stand for an Existence Evaluation before the esteemed Control Brains…but I had something a bit more interesting in mind." He lowered his tower of a seat down to the stage, hopping forward when his tiny heels hit the ground with a resounding click as the Control Brains began their boot procedures, thrumming to life and undergoing their portentous first round of diagnostics before the whole of the crowd.

Red placed a warm hand on Purple's ravaged waist and moved him closely behind him, shielding his broken body with his own as Pem strode flippantly across the rostrum, throwing his arms wide before freezing and narrowing his filthy jade eyes up at the bloody mark smudged against his enemy's brow. He gasped in repulsed, hurt shock and shot a torrid, seething glare at Lard Nar where he stood with Kez a few feet away.

"_You_! How dare you do something so unspeakable to me!" Pem screamed out over the chatter of the crowd, stomping over to where his false brother stood in dreadful confusion. "You _cheated_ on me and became a soul brother to the enemy?!" He dropped his voice down to a dangerous whisper to conceal his motives from the waiting throng below, thrusting a finger in Lard Nar's face as he took a few steps back, only to be stopped by the heavy shins of a troop of mammoth guards appearing behind him. "You…you…."

"When will you realize that there isn't anything going on between us?! You're a psychotic menace!" Lard Nar cried back, shooting a swift glance in Red's direction and trying to signal him to move Purple to some semblance of safety while Pem was distracted. "I don't know you and I don't want to! I'm _not_ your brother, I'm _not_ your friend, and I _don't_ love you! I loved Urb Yen and you took her from me!" He cringed when Red took his signal and tried to spin around and leave, only to be met with the hot barrel of a rifle shoved against his ribcage by an Irken guardsman.

"No, no, no! I saved you from a life of boring domestic idiocy by setting her up to fail! I've wanted you from the moment I saw you thrown in the cell across from mine in Prison Camp 4! I saw hope in you because you were the only one with a brain enough to figure out how to escape and the only one brave enough to come up with a plan to take Vort back! I _needed_ you! I needed you and you left me behind to rot with scum like them!" Pem was unraveling, finally showing his true, desperate colors as he jabbed a shaky finger in Red's direction. He swallowed his shattered psyche, trying to bite back the flood of heartbreaking, hopeless, forlorn tears threatening to stain his false hologram as he continued. "All I ever wanted was for you to come back. I wanted to take back our planet together and make it whole again for the millions of women and children that were murdered by the Irken race! And what did you do? Negotiate! I had to kill my way to where I am! I had to murder and pillage and destroy all to get to this stage so I could put an end to what you were to cowardly to begin in the first place!"

Lard Nar tried to move away, gasping when Kez was powerfully lifted up with a screech into the restrictive arms of one of the guards, thrashing as she tried to squirm away and only earning a massive, gloved hand over her mouth. Pem stalked forward, hot tears stinging his cheeks as he backed Lard Nar further into the shins of the now completely confused guard, knowing all he was hearing was garbled nonsense due to the connector in his PAK keeping him tethered to the treacherous collective. He reached out with shaky, unsure hands and took a deep breath when Lard Nar smacked him harshly away, pulling into himself with an unending, miserable, Irk-shattering anguish that no one had ever seen over his usually confident, maddening face.

"I used to be so good…I wasn't always like this. I lost my wife and my daughter in the war. I haven't been able to love for cycles upon cycles upon cycles! All I had was you and you left me. I-I had to sleep alone and terrified for so long while they tortured me in that little padded room at the end of the hall. I tried to die but they wouldn't let me. T-They wouldn't let me and I had to go on with nothing." He mumbled through his tears, biting at his lip as a heavy sob wracked his body and he reached out for Lard Nar again, planting his hands firmly on his shoulders and digging his claws hard into his bone. "Does that mean nothing to you? Why won't you wake up and see that I'm trying to save our planet from the monsters that hurt us?"

Lard Nar was frozen in place and chilled to his core, completely caught off guard by the disgusting change of character. He had dreamed nightly of what he would say to Pem if he had him this close, of what he would do to his narrow throat under his claws. This isn't what he was expecting, and it made him excruciatingly uncomfortable. He had expected ruthlessness, expected the beast to fight him and try and rip him in half like he had done to hundreds before him. Instead, he was met with a raw, fresh wound of a man pummeled into a broken visage of the Vortian he used to be by a system that wanted nothing more than to destroy him.

"Pem, this isn't the way." He began tentatively, trying to delicately get through to the distraught psychopath as he stared with puffy eyes at the ground between them. "You need to let this, all of it, go. If you do this, our home will _never_ be free. The Control Brains will enslave our people like they want to do to my friends. You're trying to push Inquisitoria out of Vort, but do you realize if that happens, the atmosphere they've created there will leave with them? Millions more will die at your hand alone and the planet will crumble to nothing."

Pem shook his head in bitter, lacerated suffering, letting his eyes flutter shut as he willed himself to calm. "No." He said frankly, finally looking back up and making eye contact with the one being he now knew he would never have. "You're trying to get in my head…I…I-I've been called to do this. I'm supposed to be the prophet that turns things around for our universe." He pointed up at the Control Brains who finally beeped awake, eyes lighting up with a searing, intimidating luminosity as they began their final decent from the pinnacle of the ceiling to preside over the doom of them all. "They told me so. They told me I was destined for great things. I-I'll prove it to you! Y-You'll see how much I love you!"

Lard Nar pushed off of the guard's kneepads, throwing off Pem's hands and turning the tables, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him ferociously. "I don't care how much you think you love me! Would you just listen to yourself for a second?! You've been tricked! You've been sold a lie like the rest of us had! Do you really think they'll let you become ambassador to Vort?! As soon as you're done with all this, they'll murder you too and take everything for themselves!" He explained rapidly, watching as Pem's face went from one of steely determination for his cause to something unspeakable, unwell, and insipid "Please, it's not too late to stop this. You can still make your wife and daughter proud by doing the right thing."

Pem shoved him off with unsteady hands, clutching frantically at his face with scrambling claws as his breathing escalated and his fast disentangling world crumbled around him. "Shut up! S-Shut up!" He wailed violently, throwing his head back and screeching out something in between excruciating torment and agonizing distress. "Y-You're lying! I-I know I love you! Yeah…yeah…I know I'm right! I-I'll just have to prove it to you, Lard Nar. You'll see how incredible our lives can be when I finish this once and for all and save our people! Guards!"

"W-Wait! Please think about what you're-!" Lard Nar tried to reach out and persuade him a final time before a repressive hand closed over his mouth and a domineering, bone-crushing arm slung around his waist, locking him in place.

Pem spun around and threw his hands over his face, digging into his skin with his palms as he audibly bawled, struggling with all his might to stay upright as he shakily wandered back to his seat and hiked his pedestal back up to watch his plan unfold from above. The crowd had hushed in mystified perplexity a while ago, watching as the unsettling encounter took place but still not seeing the bigger picture through their PAK blockers. Pem took a deep, shuddering breath and wiped his salty cheeks on the back of his expensive gloves, waving through his awful despair to silence the throng whispering in uncertainty below.

"Welcome, brave Irken Armada! You are the finest members of our military and I am so grateful you were all able to make it here today!" He choked out, sniffing again and trying not to focus on where Lard Nar squirmed pitifully against the hold of his captor. "You have been called to bear witness to the trial of former Almighty Tallest Red and former Almighty Tallest Purple for their crimes against our glorious Empire! But first, I would like to make a special announcement!" Pem finally reeled himself back in, crossing his legs with eager motivation and bringing his fingers together over his sharp knee. "Our forces are making their way to the unfortunate planet of Inquisitoria as we speak to perform a disastrous organic sweep over the surface and finally take our enemies out of this war!"

Kez finally worked her mouth free and shouted irately up at the demon glaring down upon them all. "You stupid little thing! You can't possibly think this will ever work!"

The demented throng cheered, throwing hands and goggles into the air as Pem gave them a childish round of applause to the work he truly believed would benefit his manic, irrational cause. "I have conversed at length with our omnipotent leaders," he gestured to where the mechanical, monstrous fiends lingered in silence, "and we have decided to speed things along a bit with a little surprise!"

The crowd erupted in a sadistic, bloodthirsty cacophony of feral hoots and animalistic cackles as Red and Purple were forced back across the stage to stand before the now hovering Control Brains pressing down upon them. Red tried not to let his dread get the best of him as the guard moved behind him to jab his rifle ruthlessly up under his PAK, urging him to stay still as another came forward and did the same to Purple. He swallowed thickly, reaching down and taking Purple tentatively by the hand as he swayed dangerously before thinking quickly about their declining situation. This was bad…_really_ bad. They were hideously outnumbered and barely had any resources beyond their fists and the boot knife sitting atop the pedestal a few feet away, leaving Red to resign to the fact that they may have finally reached the end of their story. He could try to make a beeline to grab it, but they would both undoubtedly be executed on the spot. He felt his nerves spike when he felt Purple's fingers tremble against his strong grip, turning to look him over a final time before a sudden, serene understanding hit him.

Now…he had to do it now.

Everything building between them had to crest and finally peak. Red may never get another chance again as Pem cackled and giggled above them and the Control Brains ran their tendrils down to hover ominously above their PAKs, holding back for Pem's final announcement to whatever last painful, incredibly torturous game he was going to subject their pummeled bodies to. Here in the heart of the Empire, with thousands of heartless eyes upon them, laughing deafeningly and jeering cruelly at their suffering, Red could only see Purple.

Do it.

Do it now.

"Pur?" He breathed under the ruthless commotion, fighting against the repulsive feeling of heavy Irken weaponry digging into his skin.

Red felt his pulse skyrocket when Purple turned to face him, feeling the world around them melt away to nothing when they made eye contact under the bouncing glare of searing magenta light splayed over imperfect, scarred skin. He had planned the question for over a month with Lard Nar's help, wanting to take his partner out to their favorite opulent restaurant in the Inquisitorian capitol and order him whatever his heart desired. He wanted them to laugh passionately over the sting of bubbly, expensive champagne and fall victim to the civilian nightlife like they had learned to do so well. Red had written a carefully planned, soulful speech he would recite timidly when he got down on one knee to brandish the tarnished Guarven Silver ring he had traded his favorite pistol for at a local pawn shop and hope with every fiber of his being that it fit. It wasn't much, but it would have been special, electric even, when he would slip it on his fiancé's finger and watch him hold it up to the light with that gorgeous smile that held his once broken heart. He could see it now, Purple, hopefully, crying out an enthusiastic yes and yelling out his childish enthusiasm for everyone to hear for miles, wrapping Red in a tight embrace as he cried tears of joy against his shoulder. It would have been their moment, not the moment of millions of their former subjects. Yet, here, in the domineering, terrifying presence of everyone in the universe that wanted to murder them in their sleep, he had to know. He just had to know what he would have said.

"Yeah?" Purple mumbled back unsuspectingly, frowning when he felt Red's already tense grip bolster as veracity began to ebb and flow in slow motion around them. He searched his partner's face for a moment, confusion creeping in when he watched him take a deep, shaky breath and thumb gently at his ring finger. "What's wrong?"

"Besides getting ready to be shot for the second time in my life?" Red tried a halfhearted attempt at being comedic, feeling it fall flat when Purple shrunk back a bit at the obliterating weight of what was going to ultimately destroy them. "Purple do you remember when we left to go to war, and…um…I-I said I had to ask you something when we got back?"

The anxious flutter in Red's tone disconcerted him even more as he licked his chapped lips with a blink, nodding slightly and feeling his breath hitch when the guard behind him put more pressure against his aching back. "Is this really the time, Red?" He managed to squeak out, returning his terrified gaze to the Control Brains when they began to hunt through unknown information behind their glassy slits of dictatorial eyes. "I-I mean we're gonna-"

"Be quiet for once and just listen." Red whispered softly between them, not once tearing his steady gaze from his profile as he spoke. "We've been through some shitty times together, Pur."

"Yeah, no kidding, dumbass." Purple managed a shaky eye roll before clamping his mouth shut when Red continued, surprising him with the peculiar calmness quickly overtaking his voice as he decided to rip off the band aid and take a horrifying leap of faith into their unknown future.

"We're probably gonna die, but I wanted you to know that everything you've shown me in the past cycle has been absolutely incredible. You taught me how to feel again…a-and showed me how to love. You literally gave me my life back after I had destroyed it with drugs and depression. I don't ever want to think of my life without you in it, and I have to know what you would have said if I asked this properly the way I wanted to." He clamped around his shaky palm again and squeezed his unfocused eyes shut, feeling the terrifying question hanging on the tip of his tongue. "A-And I…will you….w-will you…I mean when we get out of here…will you…."

A sudden ethereal weightlessness surpassed the enormous pulsating agony of Purple's gunshot as the weight of what he thought was coming hit him square in the spooch and knocked his senses back. Wait…what? Will he what? W-Will he _what_?! He pulled his other hand away from his oozing side and brought it to Red's in stunned disbelief, wrapping his trembling fingers in a reassuring embrace as quivering butterflies erupted between them and pushed away all remaining traces of fear or doubt. This…Was this what Purple thought it was? Was it…how could it be? How? Why here? Why now? Why not sooner? Had he really felt the same this whole time? Had Purple just been too blind to notice through his own apprehensions? There were so many nerve-wracking questions, so many uncertainties as he felt a wave of impenetrable ecstasy flood over his razed, fractured body and mind to blanket him with a beautiful, otherworldly worship he wasn't sure he would ever know again.

"Will I what, Red?" He choked on the words as a premature smile peaked on his pallid, bloodstained face, leaning in as much as he was allowed and biting his lip when his gritty eyes clouded with weighty tears. "W-Will I what?"

Do it.

Do it now.

Red gave himself a small nod and held Purple's amorous, interminably affectionate gaze against his, feeling his magnificent pulse humming under his touch. He had to just do it…just do it…This was for them; for their beautiful future together.

"Purple of Veloria...will you marry me?"

It was true. After everything; every heartbreaking advance turned cold in the forests of Naphrus, all the mind-bending torture and running they had undergone against their wills, and the beautiful reconciliation in Teem's grungy bar, Red wanted him. After all the gloriously illegal kisses and fiery touches exchanged in dimly lit rooms, after every overwhelming shared orgasm and every soft stroke of comforting fingertips grazing collarbones and cheeks under comforters in the pale morning light, Red wanted him. After every amorous word, hot argumentative jab, and lap ran in the hot summer of Inquisitoria, they were here together in each other's delicate, true presence to love and to hold until the end of their days, no matter how soon that demise decided to come. They had been through hell; riddled with agonizing holes and bruised to the bone, eaten alive by the political system they had once worked so hard to please and danced through like ignorant puppets, taken advantage of over and over again as they hunted for justice that just didn't seem to come. Through it all, here…now…they were one beating pulse, one singing soul, one finally complete being against the influence of the filthy, malevolent universe trying to snuff out the bright, unrestricted flame they had lit under one another.

Without thinking, Purple broke away from his captor's ruthless hold and took Red gently by the cheeks, pulling him into a soft, rapturously authentic, tear-streaked kiss before he was forcibly ripped away from his comforting hold as he grinned through the agony. "Yes…y-yes!" He cried tenderly over the jeering crowd with an ecstatic grin.

Red blinked in feathery astonishment, trying to fight against the harsh hands pulling him away to the other side of the stage, unable to breathe at the life changing answer stitching his shattered world back together and drawing a sputtering, overjoyed laugh from his lips. "Wait…y-yes? You mean it?!" He called over the rapidly growing distance. "You'll marry me?!"

Purple nodded through his elated, thrilled sobs, limping backwards with his apathetic jailer and clamping a shivering hand over his mouth as he beamed uncontrollably and cried in the blazing light. "Of course I'll marry you! I-I was going to ask you the same question! I-I was scared you'd think I was moving too fast and…and…!" He was quickly swamped by another happy cry as the throng of disgusted Irkens threw bits of trash and wrappers up in their direction followed by derogatory, nasty shouts demeaning them for their beautiful moment.

Red laughed along with him, forgetting his perils as he looked partner…no…his _fiancé_, over a final time before snapping back to reality when a slow, disgusted clap resounded over the heavy pulse beating through his veins. Now he had a purpose, and Red was determined to get them out of here. Pem watched them impatiently from above with an eager, over exaggerated smile, reclining back in his chair and resting his chin in his hand.

"Oh, how disgustingly charming!" He giggled back with a mellow, amorous sigh. "Two star crossed lovers finally committing to one another for a sickly-sweet eternity. I won't lie, it warms my heart to see you like this, all soft and venerable with one another. Who knew such monstrous creatures could be capable of love?"

Red clicked his teeth menacingly, trying to fly forward but finding himself brutally held back by the unbelievably onerous bodyweight of the guards plastering him steadfastly in place. "You shot my husband, you fucking bastard!" He screamed up across the yawing steel of the jagged ceiling, his protective instincts finally boiling over once more when the pedestal holding Purple's tools and the boot knife was scooted skillfully between them at equal distance.

"Honey, I don't think he'll ever have a chance to be your husband." Pem mocked, leisurely draping himself over his plush leather armrest. "Not after the sentence we've decided upon for you two."

It was Purple's turn to shout back, wrath claiming him as he stumbled blindly forward, only to be ruthlessly grabbed once more. "What do you mean?! You said this was a trial!" He growled aggressively, shooting a crushingly, gut-twisting glower up at his nemesis that would scorch even the most hardhearted of battle torn soldiers.

Pem rolled his eyes and stuck out his tongue in disgust to the callousness in both his prisoner's voices. "Geez, you two have some serious issues with listening. Didn't you hear what I said before your gushy proposal? I said we decided to speed things up a bit and," He paused for dramatic effect, "I'm going to turn that lovely little declaration over to the incredible beings that could help make all this happen."

The Control Brains emitted a high pitch whine, forcing hundreds of overstimulated antennae under gloved hands out of writhing suffering and revolting agony. A sweep of bright, blinding blue light flooded the whole of the room as the Armada below panicked and gawked up with wide petrified eyes when Pem stood on his improvised throne, clicking off his disguise for good and working off his gauntlet before tossing it down to the stage below with a thunk. He rolled his shoulders and ginned menacingly down upon the ignorant fleet he had cruelly tricked for months, earning a slew of terrified gasps that eventually turned to bloodcurdling screams of dread when they finally realized the gravity of what they had done. Confusion and mayhem erupted as thousands of boots clamored for the locked doors leading to the war battered foyer outside, desperate to get away from the manic, demented pest cackling back at them with sadistic glee. They didn't make it far, the Control Brain's sickening tidal wave of viral code sweeping down like a burdensome fog over their whirring PAKs and freezing them in place as they spasmed and fought against the forcible rape of reencoding they didn't willingly submit to.

All Red's feeble family could do was stare down in complete, helpless horror as bodies fell limply to the floor, collapsing over one another in chilling heaps as fingers and feet twitched mechanically and were overridden by a false compliance that destroyed their senses and biological braincells in favor of something much more sinister. The guards holding the four panicked and tore off in the other direction, Sqorb vaulting up over the edge of the stage and picking them off one by one like animals with his pistols, splattering their sticky blood across the smooth, pristine floor as the Control Brains buzzed out their approval from their menacing tendrils above.

"No! You can't do this!" Purple cried out in panic, rushing forward in his newfound freedom to clutch defensively at Red's arm through his robes, staring up in sheer, unabridged distress as the Control Brains continued their dastardly work. "Do you really want to murder billions?! All for your own disgusting expansion?!"

"What are you talking about? What's going on?" Red stammered as Lard Nar and Kez rapidly fell in to their side, forming a protective shield against the two when pitiful groans and eerie intones resounded from the now zombie-like Armada peeling themselves from the frigid floor below to stand in rigid formation and stare blankly up at their mechanical leaders for their next command. What had they become?

"Their original plan backfired!" Purple explained frantically, pressing into Red when the Control Brains turned their autarchic, power-hungry attention down on them, burning their skin in their ghostly, alarming glow and picking them apart like delicious morsels. "They reencoded the Armada to perform an organic sweep over Irk to take the planet directly and rid the star system of both Inquisitoria _and_ our home!"

"What?!" Red cried back in shattered disbelief, shrinking back when the booming voice of the head brain rained down on them like acid.

"How interesting this turn of event has led us down. Former Tallest Red, former Tallest Purple, food service drone Kez, Vortian rebel Lard Nar, for your collective undermining of our plot to sweep the universe in our name, you are herby sentenced to death before our council." The brain hummed smoothly, leaning back in its heavy suspension when the other two came forward.

"We have decided upon a most delightful fate for you all. The pedestal before you is filled with indestructible tools and a single knife that you will be allowed to use to defend yourselves after your reencoding is complete."

Kez shivered in her boots, fat tears of absolute fright rolling down her cheeks as she clung erratically to Lard Nar's shoulder, cowering down almost to the ground when Pem threw his head back and laughed at their appalling torture.

"What do you mean, _our_ reencoding?" Red growled back in mounting dread, feeling Purple dig his sharp claws into his arm as he trembled. Why couldn't the Inquisitorian army just break through the Elite stronghold already?! They had to get out of here and finally bring the brains offline to free the Armada before they laid waste to everything they knew!

The brains ascended slightly, growing fearful of Red's mounting rage when the head brain began to glow with the same alarming, gruesome light that had been poured over the unlucky, fried fleet below. "We thought it appropriate for you to engage in combat for our entertainment before we sent out our final strike upon your planet. Former Tallest Red and food service drone Kez will now be subjected to PAK data transfer to overtake Former Tallest Purple and Vortian rebel Lard Nar to the death."

Without warning, Red shouted and shoved Purple back as the insidious, mind-bending wave of unsavory, malicious information descended upon them and wormed its way into their unfortunate PAKs and down into the very fiber of who they were, stretching and pulling code from hidden places in their psyches and contorting it into something dastardly and wrong.

"Lard Nar, get him out of here! Find a way out, now! You can't stay-!" Red's horror-stricken bark was cut off as he and Kez spasmed brutally in tandem, seizing and going rigid when everything they were was swamped with a new, disgusting, violent personality against their weakening wills.

"No, stop! We can't leave! I can't leave him!" Purple cried resolutely as Lard Nar flew foreword and grabbed him by the wrist, screaming out his demoralizing anguish when he watched the fiery light go from his fiancé's crimson eyes and the once beautiful compassion flood away from Kez's tiny body, the two falling hard to their knees over one another with a loud, deadweight thump.

"Purple we have to go now! We have to _go_!" Lard Nar struggled to tug him along, his overpowering body weight fighting back against his short stature as he heaved and pulled with all his might to no avail. "Please! If we stay, they'll kill us! That's not what Red wants!"

"I said no!" Purple bellowed frenetically through his concentrated misery, shaking his head and yanking away from his friend's iron grip to half-sprint, half-limp to his flaccid partner's side. "Red would never hurt me! He would never-" He froze in his tracks as his heaving breath caught in the back of his throat at the sound of clinking Inquisitorian scales shuddering as Kez moaned submissively and rolled off of Red's stagnant chest, sliding disconcertingly to her feet with a vacant, unnerving gawk.

"Kez?" Purple breathed, taking a step back when her jaw went slack and her vacant attention turned to the tall pedestal, striding rigidly to the side and attempting to stretch up on her toes to grab for the knife. "What are you doing?! This isn't you!" He faltered in petrified shock, glancing down in savage dismay when Lard Nar grabbed at him again.

"Purple, they're not in their right minds anymore! We have to go before he gets up!" He ordered uncontrollably in a frenzied fluster, trying to get through to his catatonic friend where he stared forward in stunned disbelief. "He trained us! He knows everything we know and more! There's no way we could ever match against someone with that kind of experience!"

Purple didn't budge, frozen where he stood when Red finally quivered awake and roused himself with a disturbed, pained groan that curdled Purple's blood where he shivered. He watched in dismayed incredulity as his mate pushed himself up from where he lay against the unkind ground, working himself to his knees as his head lolled back compulsorily and his antennae twitched with the remnants of buzzing static pouring and bubbling up menacingly from his internal wiring. He reached up with involuntarily stiff hands and unclasped the scaly kaftan bogging him down, letting it fall to the floor before standing with robotic cruelty and turning uncomprehendingly to the plinth.

No.

No. He had to still be in there. Red would never hurt him...Red would...n-never hurt him...right?

"Red? Red?!" Purple tried to get through to him as his spidery fingers danced with leisure viciousness over his possibilities, the Control Brains soundlessly guiding him on through their heartless enjoyment to select Purple's hand held blow torch before advising him in the back of his dithering intellect to pass the boot knife down to Kez, who immediate took it and threw herself into an unnerving, horrific battle stance.

Purple took a precarious step forward, throwing his hands tentatively before him when Red turned with dead eyes to the floor, gradually lowering and positioning himself into the violent, unsympathetic posture he had taught the IRM to employ in hand to hand combat just a day before.

"Purple, no!" Lard Nar hissed frighteningly through his clenched teeth, body wracked and dripping with alarm when Kez turned her malicious sights on him and cocked her head in dubious interest.

"Red?" Purple spoke slowly and evenly, trying not to let his terror shine through the crack in his tone. "Red, it's me. It's Purple. I know you, and this _isn't_ you." He breathed edgily, jumping with a shout when Red's gaze snapped up to meet his, a bizarre lack of light and dulled color stamped behind his fading ocular lenses. "Please, baby, you have to fight this. You're stronger than them."

"Be quiet, traitor." Red spoke suddenly with a monotone sneer, brandishing his plasma torch with a deep-set frown. "You're a danger to the immediate collective and must be dealt with accordingly."

Purple swallowed at the heartbreaking words he knew weren't his lover's flooding past his broken smile and stifling the air with something unbelievably alien and erroneous. "Please, you know the collective is wrong. I know you do." He whimpered pitifully, faltering when Red flicked on the white-hot plasma and bared his teeth with a menacing grin. "Red, _please_! Please, honey, you can't let them get in your head!"

"No. You know the Imperial Law." Kez's once sweet, now lifeless voice rang out as she hummed artfully against her blade, clicking her claws against the length of the smooth metal to try and intimidate their targets into submission. "We have been tasked with destroying all conspirators, including you, in the name of the mighty Control Brains."

"Former Tallest Purple," Red growled out in pure hatred, stalking forward expertly.

"Vortian rebel Lard Nar," Kez picked up his horrific sentence, clutching firmly at her weapon with a hiss.

"We sentence you...to _execution_!"

* * *

Oh boy! This was a long one! Thanks for all the support and continued promotion of this fic through all of your gorgeous fanart and lovely reposting of this link throughout the internet! We've come so far because of all of your lovely reviews, so thank you, so, so, sooo much!

_**Next update: Thursday, November 7, 2019 at 10:00 pm CDT (UTC -5). See you then!**_


	24. The Collective Reveals Itself

Hello and welcome to our bi-weekly episode of "My Kind!" Our last chapter was pretty intense, and I'm hoping this one is just as surprising as the cliffhanger I've gotten messages about! Without further ado, thank you for your continued support, and I hope that you enjoy!

Welcome **Reading Wanderer** to the follow family! You rock, lovely angel!

I KNOW I MISSED THE UPDATE IM SORRY MY DAUGHTER CAUGHT THE FLU AFTER THE MOVE AND I HAD TO STAY UP ALL NIGHT WITH HER SORRRRYYYY!

**Someone from my Instagram asked me to post some things I thought Pem would like/dislike and to describe what it would be like to have a date night (*sighs in disappointment*) with Pem so here they are lovely Lucita you adorable freak;**  
I feel like Pem would be the kind of guy to color in fancy adult coloring books in his free time with those stupid twistable adult crayons, do sudoku and other number games, watch shitty daytime talk shows about failed marriages, and eat an excess of microwavable Italian meatballs. But just the meatballs. No spaghetti. If he had a house he would obsessively sweep his kitchen every morning because he can't stand stepping on crumbs and would only eat microwavable egg and sausage sandwiches with swiss cheese for breakfast with a ridiculously fancy teacup and saucer of decaf earl grey tea. He hates when his routine changes, despises everything about the color red, and has a secret fear of abandonment. Pem doesn't drink, doesn't do drugs, and sleeps completely naked. While his sexuality is a mystery to everyone, including himself, he is actually afraid of any form of sexual encounter beyond kissing and cuddling and his daughter from his past was adopted. He believes devoutly in a higher power but feels like it abandoned him. It is good to note that he is neuro-divergent, but has no official diagnosis. He is very racist and thinks all Irkens are ugly as sin, but secretly thinks Purple is pretty alright purely because purple is his favorite color.

If you had a date with Pem, you would probably end up in a cheap toy store watching him roll around in all of the stuffed animals before he leaves without buying anything. You guys would get questionable gas station burritos and eat them on the curb of the parking lot while talking about him. _Only_ him. Then he would insist you take him home and help him finish one of those annoying 20,000 piece puzzles without knowing he hid like 5 whole pieces in his pocket. After doing that until 2 am, he would kick you out without a hug or a kiss and wouldn't call you for five weeks. When he would he wouldn't remember your name and would ask if you could lend him money for something really vague that probably won't make any sense. That's exactly how it would go. You wanted me to be honest.

**Chapter rated M for graphic depictions of violence/blood/gore, allusions to mental disorders, brief strong language, and general adult themes.**

* * *

**An undefinable amount of time in the past:**

Pem swallowed to himself and licked his lips, scrawling dutifully in the paltry notebook he'd been allowed after months of being good since his last mental overload. He wasn't permitted to carry pens or pencils anymore since he had gotten overly cocky and attempted to sharpen one to pick the lock to his cell, given tiny children's crayons that he burned through with ease as he scribbled and doodled contentedly to himself to tick away the boring, mind-numbing hours that droned on in slow motion past his bars. He would sit for long hours on the chilly ground and memorize faces as he carved them out with vibrant color against the thin paper; every angle was an equation, every movement had a purpose. He'd drawn hundreds of Irken guards, noting the minute differences in their uniforms during rank upgrades or the new shade of custom pistol grips tucked menacingly in their canvas belts. Their anatomy was so incredibly different, every muscle breathing and stretching taut under smooth, velvety skin. Why was it warm? Why did it lack any distinct texture? Their bones were silkier and rounder than that of a Vortian's sharp cheekbones and jagged teeth, giving them an air of bizarre regality that got under Pem's morality and irritated him more than it should have. They walked around like they owned the planet, stomped on the soil like it meant nothing and was theirs for their own sadistic taking, and stole away young women and girls to brothels while the atmosphere sputtered and choked in their grip.

Filthy. All of them just…._filthy_.

"Let go of me!"

Pem felt his shallow breath catch in the back of his throat as he froze, dropping his cerulean crayon to the floor and shrinking back against the far wall, clambering up against the grimy bars to secretly observe with wide, curious eyes as an infuriated voice was guided on by strong hands to the cell directly across the way from his own. He reached out tentatively, wrapping his eager fingers around the iron as he leaned forward slightly, pressing his cheek into the rough metal when someone rounded the corner, bare, lithe feet kicking wildly against the ground as he whipped and brawled against the two stocky guards struggling to drag him on against his will.

Lard Nar.

Pem watched in sickened horror, recoiling with a flinch when one of the guards finally worked open the rusted lock to his tiny cell and threw him to the ground in a pathetic heap, yelling a few derogatory slurs in broken Vortian as Lard Nar attempted to push himself up on feeble arms before collapsing back down when the sadistic guard backhanded him vindictively across his already heavily bruised cheek, laughing as he coughed weakly into the floor. The two snickered to one another before spitting over his battered body and banging the sliding door shut with a deafening slam, taking their leave and letting the unbearable ache of interrogation take over in their absence.

"What…what did they _do_ to you?" Pem mouthed almost silently to himself, craning to see across the dark corridor to where the object of his affection finally rolled onto his ravaged back with a pained groan, staring up at the ceiling for a long while as he massaged weakly at tender broken joints and flaccid horns. "Why do you fight them if you know they're just going to hurt you again?"

Pem had fought outside of the city of Hatalca during the initial invasion, holing himself up in his lab with his cowering wife, Asha Gen, and his three-cycle old infant, Nea Gen. He could still see those deep violet eyes filled with quivering tears of panic as trembling fingers clamped firmly over the mouth of their gently crying daughter, desperate to keep her quiet when Elite boots stormed the compound and swept through every room, capturing each and every one of Pem's screaming collogues as they attempted to flee the senseless violence. They had destroyed his precious life's work in a matter of minutes as he watched helplessly from the slats of a narrow locker tucked away in the corner of his personal office, raking through papers and schematics for new military technology he had been preparing to proudly present to Tallest Miyuki and her authoritarian cabinet at the International Board of Empires for their bi-yearly engineering conference. Why? Why had she betrayed them? Why had she raped their home world and their beautiful, damaged culture? He had held his shivering wife close as her terrified tears stained his unsoiled lab coat, sandwiching their sweet daughter between their horrified bodies as the Irken menace approached.

Screaming, crying, blood. There was no sense to it. No sense at all.

He blinked to himself and shook the grisly image from his mind, curling back into himself and reaching out for his notepad and the box of waxy crayons he had left sitting atop his mattress. Pem took a deep, shaky breath and turned back to where Lard Nar lay frailly on the soiled floor, feeling his heart flutter with a skipping beat when he finally sat up and gave him a clear look at those two beautiful yellow eyes searing into the very fiber of who he was behind his goggles. Pem had asked himself hundreds of times if it was wrong to feel these things when he used to have a wife, attempting each time to forget her and his past life in favor of the future. Maybe he and the stocky rebel across the way could have a new life together when they finally got out of this horrendous, dastardly place. He sighed romantically and let his eyes flicker shut, absentmindedly selecting a new color for his latest masterpiece. He could have meaning again and never be forgotten, resting peacefully in those sharp claws as they blasted their vile, repulsive enemies to dust and danced in their nauseating ashes. They could grow old and senile together and find peace on Vort as joint ambassadors, taking back their domineering grip over the fractured society they both would live and die for.

_I would live and die for you._

Pem grinned tenderly as his pulse thumped adoringly through his chest and finally cracked an eye open, satisfied when he had pulled out a vibrant green before pressing it to the paper and making the first long, dreamy stroke of his supposed forever. Maybe…maybe he could write him a note to tell him how he felt? Surely Lard Nar would feel the same. Pem had watched him for months and trailed him in the lavatory, memorizing every sharp arc of his body and intricate rhythm of his accented voice. He could get lost in that confident sound, singing it in his favorite dreams and dancing blissfully to it in his impeccable wishes for a romance so pure and whole that no one in the cosmos could ever break it. He would never break again.

Never.

"Don't worry, my beautiful angel." He whispered when he noticed the gentle sobbing of Lard Nar's cracked tone ringing out through the night as he wrestled with the pain he had been subjected to for military research for the third time this week alone. "All of our plans will go through without a hitch. We'll get out of this place." He reached up and palmed aimlessly at the air, squeezing his olive eyes shut once more and imagining he was comfortingly stroking away the deep bruises dotting that once velvety gray skin he wanted to dissect.

Pem returned to his drawing with a soft smile, glancing up every so often to make sure he had every line where it should be and cursing himself gently with a teasing shake of the head when he realized there was no way it would ever be perfect. He could never capture such flawlessness with the mere stroke of a crayon, dropping it carelessly to the ground and clutching the paper to his chest before pulling back and admiring the well done portrait of Lard Nar he had accurately scrawled with his own loving fingertips. He giggled warmly and planted a soft kiss to the paper before taking up another color and chewing on his tongue, thinking a few long moments about what note he wanted to write. What would accurately describe the infinite weightlessness of this beautiful feeling? What would be incredible enough to finally break open the glorious relationship he always knew they were destined to have? He gasped in sudden understanding, a stunning glimmer of light enlightening his dreary perspectives when he nodded excitedly to himself, scratching out a simple four-word sentence that captured everything he had ever wanted to say in one simple stroke of beautifully articulated Vortian.

He held his breath with another chuckle, crumpling the paper into a tight ball before pressing himself as far into the iron bars of his cell that he could manage, squinting expertly across the walkway and cocking his arm back. He only had one shot at this. On a whim, he tossed the tiny ball clear across to Lard Nar's dimly lit prison cell, squeaking out his well-honed success when it careened through the slats and landed at the foot of his bunk, immediately alerting him to the faint sound as he grumbled and uncomfortably pushed himself up to glance around in uncertainty. Pem nearly choked when he looked across to his cell, barely missing sight of him as he scrambled to throw himself atop his bare mattress and curl up as close to the wall as he could on his stomach, crossing his arms together and resting his chin in the crook of his elbow as he watched with bated breath. Lard Nar struggled to stand, limping a few steps before finally catching sight of the suspicious wad of paper staring back at him from his feet.

_Take it. Take it, please. You have to know what I feel._

Lard Nar took his time bending, grabbing for the little intrusion and carefully unfolding it, eyes going wide to the impeccable image of his own smile and neatly curled horns staring back at him in vivacious green, followed by a message he managed to breathe loud enough for Pem to hear, swooning at every happy flourish of awed disbelief lacing his tone.

"You are worth it." Lard Nar spoke, running a hand along the side of his face before sinking back down on the edge of his bunk and staring out between the bars, trying to figure out who had sent him the sophisticated, gorgeous message and wholly charming drawing for him to get lost in and pump up his once broken spirits now made whole again. "Hello? Who threw this?"

Pem stayed quiet, clamping both hands over his mouth as he shrunk down in a cold sweat, attempting to flatten his forward curling horns to the best of his ability as he tried not to look suspicious, feeling his own satisfaction and undying passion swell to dangerous levels when he watched Lard Nar grin mildly through the dark and carefully fold the image in his trembling palms, holding it surprisingly close and appreciating the weight of something so enormously simple but gorgeously reflective giving him that final spark of self-reliant hope he needed after the immense agony of torture, renewing every cell in his body with a honied, unrestricted love he could not begin to fathom resting just a few feet across the hallway.

"Thank you, whoever you are."

Pem allowed himself to recline fully against the cool, slick fabric of his bare mattress, bringing his fingers together and wringing them as he always did when he finally got the attention he felt he deserved. A peaceful warmth spread through his fingers and toes as he thought sugary, unrealistic thoughts of him and his false future dancing in tandem through the wretched, crumbling cities of Irk and laughing arrogantly together as they blackened and disintegrated to nothing more than piles of horrid grime and undeserving filth. How beautiful that day would be.

"…you will always be worth it, my love. Always."

* * *

**The Spike of Judgement;**

"Wait!" Pem cried out suddenly, leaning forward slightly in his high seat as he watched the Control Brain's two new puppets stalking forward to rip their prey into gory, primeval shreds. He threw out a hand in abrupt panic when the brains faltered, stopping Red and Kez in their merciless, bloodthirsty tracks and turning their growing impatience upon him with blistering hot eyes that seemed to incinerate and corrode at his clammy skin like bubbling liquid acid.

"Ambassador Pem, you dare to question our verdict?" The head brain mused calmly, craning up to stare lifelessly at their obedient lapdog as he hesitated and chewed at his claws through his expensive gloves.

_Ambassador_?

Pem liked the sound of that, feeling his ego almost pop at the magnificent, formidable undertone the word carried for his future ruling Vort and shepherding his people on into a new era of enduring, raucous supremacy over the star system that had been so determined to step on them for so many torturous cycles. Still…why was there something _wrong_? What was wrong about this? Pem had killed and maimed hundreds of times, ripping flesh and organs from unsuspecting bodies, but this put the appalling hook in his stomach and set him in uncomfortable knots. Was there even anything wrong at all or was it his imagination playing tricks on him again? He stared down with wide green eyes, locking his unconfident sights on where Lard Nar shivered and recoiled behind Purple's slowly dwindling, war-torn body, swallowing hoarsely at the sheer dread and sickening horror flashing behind his thick-rimmed goggles and the panicky flutter in his petite hands as he tried to psyche himself up to combat the now hostile family he had just taken as his own only a few hours before.

"Um…" Pem began unhurriedly, raising a shaky finger and panicking when the brains ignored his sudden insolence and returned to their despicable, torturous, downright shameful work.

They were eating it up, every unsteady limp Purple took backwards as his own fiancé lunged provocatively after him with a white hot blowtorch, petrified hands outstretched to try and reason with his fried organic cognizance and make sense of the utterly mindless horrors afflicting his pitiable excuse for a life.

"Red, please," Purple tried to reason with the false perception looming in the back of his irate partner's PAK as he sluggishly closed the lethal gap keeping them from finally breaking open the disgusting, heart-wrenching battle that they would both come to regret. "Remember who you are! You're a strong leader, a fantastic pilot, and you're going to be my husband! W-We're going to get married, remember? You love me!" He gave Red a genuine, tear streaked smile, wavering dangerously when he clicked the torch back on and growled lowly under his breath.

"I could never love something so pathetic and weak!" Red barked out with a sudden fury that shook at the foundations of the stage, unnerving everyone in attendance as his target began to run out of places to move.

That one stung.

"Well, _I_ love _you_!" Purple growled back, feeling his rage spike at the invasively insensitive words stabbing through his spooch. "Even if you're fucked up right now, that won't change, and I want you to see that! Snap out of it already!" He swallowed in frustration when Red ignored him, continuing his methodical, assertive steps and piercing the atmosphere with his knifelike gaze.

Lard Nar glanced up to where Pem had uncharacteristically spoken out, narrowing his eyes slightly to the bizarre sight of him staring back with an undeniable nervousness lacing his once youthful, self-assured sight. Now he looked pallid and faithlessly doubtful, like he was growing steadily to be ill under the crushing weight of something Lard Nar couldn't understand unravelling his already unstable mind. Was he actually…_thinking_ about this? Why?

Without any hint of a warning, Kez screamed aggressively and dove forward, free hand outstretched and colliding hard with Lard Nar's side as he reeled from the unexpected contact and struggled to remember his training as she fought and slashed like an uncaged animal at his face and hands, landing a few long, agonizing cuts to his knuckles as he cried out and tried to defend himself against the excruciating assault. Purple panicked and threw out his PAK legs on impulse, grabbing uncontrollably for his friend before having to throw off the tiny bundle of uncharacteristic hate and violent narcissism, yelping when Red quickly followed suit and threw the whole of his bodyweight against his partner with expert ease, grabbing at antennae and slashing unfeelingly at his eyes in an attempt to blind him to the world. Purple stumbled back and struggled to keep his footing as Red snatched with a brutal viciousness at his face, taking him relentlessly by the jaw and throwing him down hard to the ground before he was on him again. Purple reached up to instinctively shield his face from the horrifying, mind-numbing glare of hot plasma, grabbing with mounting strength at Red's wrist to send the torch skidding a few feet before he was cold-bloodedly yanked away and punched fiercely in the stomach by calloused hands that had once soothed his reservations and aches. That hurt worse than any heartless punch, any untamed, guttural growl; Purple was being stomped on by the very soul he loved more than anyone in this frightful, dreadful, cruel universe and he couldn't do anything to put an end to the torture without risking damage to Red. Something tiny and vicious collided hard with Red's back as he reared back for another damming blow, knocking him firmly to the side and slamming his cheek relentlessly into the platform beneath their backs as he missed, slamming his callous fist into the unkind ground to the left of Purple's critically oozing abdomen. Lard Nar hissed and scrambled to keep his unconscious advances jammed as Purple rolled excruciatingly onto his side and struggled to clutch distressingly at the nauseating throb radiating outwards from his ruthlessly popped stitches and shooting an unbearable wave of suffering up his weakening spine. He pushed himself up with a sputtering cough and gasped just as Kez flew hysterically back to attention and mounted her second assault on Lard Nar, throwing herself at him and barely missing his petite neck with the sharp steel of her boot knife, prying him forcefully away from his shaky hold on Red's PAK as he attempted to pry the main cover off and somehow disconnect him.

"W-Wait!" A voice called from above through the commotion once more, Pem leaning forward again in his opulent seat in a full-blown panic when Kez thrust her terrifying blade down once more and nicked Lard Nar in the forearm, forcing him to cry out in unexpected pain when she took away flesh. "W-We had a deal! You said he would be left out of this!" He clenched in escalating fury at his armrest, digging his well-manicured fingers into the hard metal as he watched in overwhelmed alarm as the very object of his dizzying affection was threatened with the cold grip of death.

The Control Brains unsympathetically ignored him a second time, leisurely admiring their ruthless, ferocious handiwork with growing interest as Red attempted to grab Purple by the PAK extensions with furious claws and force him off balance, throwing out his own PAK legs and training four hot lasers in his partner's direction. Purple couldn't hold off anymore, flying forward on unsteady feet and tackling Red around the waist as he fired on a steely whim, barely missing and raking up the far wall to shatter at the lavish foundations of the sky-high spike towering above them all and sealing their appalling, gut-wrenching dooms.

"Red! Stop!" He huffed with mounting exasperation, forcing his clawing hands away and holding his ragged breath, pulling back and connecting a heartbreakingly unwilling, overshadowing blow with his lover's jawline as his strength surged back in blinding clarity to combat the horrifying peril he was forced into. "If you can hear me, I don't wanna do this! Fight it! I know you're in there, you stupid prick!" He gritted his teeth and landed another, feeling a bit of his splintered soul leak away when he accidentally knocked lose a second tooth from Red's already fractured smile from the astonishing force of his own soaring intensity.

"Why won't you submit?!" Red cried ferociously through his wrath beneath him, spitting a mouthful of revolting, grisly blood into Purple's face to temporarily blind him before turning the tables yet again and reaching for his torch, earning an unexpected kick to the shin that sent him reeling back.

Purple took the opportunity to gracelessly wipe the metallic smelling fluid from his eyes, lunging after the torch and snatching it before chucking it with all his might into the comatose crowd staring blankly up at them from below. "Shut up! The only place I'm going is far away from here with you!" He retorted hotly, scrambling for his toolbelt atop the pedestal and throwing it around his hips to awkwardly latch it in the front before managing to somehow dodge a swift stab from Red's pitiless mechanical extensions in his lightheaded, quickly slipping cognition.

Red was determined not to give up, snatching for anything he could get his hands on and tugging Purple in by the arm to force a painful, sharp-toothed bite into his bare shoulder, drawing thick, sticky blood between his teeth before Purple shrieked and smacked him hard across the face. He pulled away at the sting, stumbling back just enough to allow Purple to dive halfheartedly behind the pedestal just in time to dodge another deadly laser fired at his determined face. Damn his partner for being so resilient! Did he ever back down?!

"Purple! We have to get them offline!" Lard Nar shrieked, managing to point a terrified finger up at where the brains began to retreat into their tangled mess of wires before he was swamped by gnashing teeth and sharp claws digging into his sharp shoulders and ruthlessly flipping him onto his stomach, shredding through his once opulent Inquisitorian uniform. "If we can finish the mission we can-" He cried out sharply when Kez forced out her own PAK extensions, raking with an overwhelmingly oblique malice into his sensitive side and drawing blood with a robotic cackle.

"That's enough!" Pem barked over the brutal furor, standing as a vehement fire overpowered his better judgement and clouded his sight to anything but the sickening sounds of Lard Nar being torn to pieces by the heartless zombie tiny Kez had become. He drew his pistol out of rage and gritted his elongated teeth, narrowing his incensed eyes up at his mechanical puppeteers as they continued their slow climb, seething with an unstable rage that threatened to consume them all. "I asked you to let him go and I won't take no for an answer!"

The head brain stopped its sluggish, silent ascent, eyes changing from a deep magenta to a repellant olive as thick waves of dastardly code and information ripped through its horrific frame, buzzing its way through the commotion when Red fired upon Purple again who barely dodged the incoming onslaught with a gradually weakening rasp before faltering and falling lethargically to his knees out of dizzy exhaustion. Finally, after what felt like ages of gradually simmering rage, the brain spoke in booming lucidity, weaving its way into the override system of Pem's chair to fry the control panel and lowering him with insensitive, inhumane leisure to the bloodstained platform waiting below.

"What are you doing?!" He demanded heatedly, feeling anticipation and terror bubble up in the back of his throat and choke the words from his system as he stared down in horror at the thrashing monster Red had become. Pem scrambled and grabbed at the back of his seat, struggling to keep his hold as it slammed callously into the ground, nearly throwing him from his once decadent peach and alerting the involuntary, murderous killing machines to his sudden presence on the battlefield.

"Pem Goor, we thank you for your continued diligence to our esteemed council." The brain hummed with a cybernetic cordiality that unnerved him to the bone, unfazed by the cold, jittery sweat Pem had broken into when Red turned his unfeeling sights on him with a bleeding grin. "However, in the light of our probable success in taking the planets Inquisitoria, Irk, and Vort, your immediate services are no longer required." There was a languid pause before a tiny ding of approval sealed his dastardly fate. "You are subject to immediate termination."

Pem froze, eyes shooting wide and jaw going slack in petrified disbelief as his pistol slipped from his weakening grip, clanking lightly to the floor as Red extended his homicidal hands out mockingly and took a tentative step in his direction. "T-termination? You're…_k_-_killing_ me?" Pem felt hot tears of unbearable, all-consuming betrayal sting at his eyes as he reached up with a disbelieving sniff, trying to clear his hazy vision on the back of his glove when Red's PAK lasers began their dubious charge. "After everything…? N-No. No! It can't be! I-I'm the prophet of Vort! I-I'm the one who is supposed to take over after these beasts are gone! You promised me my people would be spared!" He threw his head back as he flew into a fit of bright, horrible tears, allowing them to flow freely and stain at the dark lapel of his jacket, struggling to stay upright and grabbing up at his once good allies with blown-wide hands and quivering lips as he hollowly wailed over the violence. "Please! Please you can't do this to me! Y-You can't leave me behind! Why are you leaving me behind?! P-please don't leave me alone again!"

"Pem!" Lard Nar shouted out over his ominous, bloodcurdling shrieks, rolling Kez onto her back and cracking her wrist in his agile hands before wincing in disgusted shame when she screamed out in agony and dropped the knife. He threw himself up off of his friend's now writhing body, grabbing for the knife and sprinting forward, stabbing ruthlessly into Red's kneecap and dropping him to the ground with a furious screech before stuttering out a hasty apology when he struggled to pull the short blade from his flesh. "Now do you see?! They lied to you! They used you for their own gain!"

He stumbled, tripping inelegantly and falling onto his front when Red reached out and drug him down by the ankle, snarling out in enraged, fuming exasperation when Purple was on his back again and tugging brutally at his overly-sensitive antennae through his own faltering consciousness and steady blood loss, feeling one snap in his domineering grip and forcing himself not to pull back for Red's own eventual good.

Pem gasped in confused, bewildered horror when the massive main doors to the hall blew open and hundreds of heavily armed Inquisitorian soldiers flooded the floor. Almost immediately, the Control Brains sent out a screeching signal to the wavering, dormant Armada below, digging their ruthless, dictatorial grips into their unsuspecting PAKs and causing the throng to jolt in bizarre succession, turning like feral, diseased animals upon Sledhob's well-timed advance. They had finally broken through the last of the Elite stronghold, blasting their way through careening PAK legs and trouncing boot knives only to be overtaken by the untamed fury of thousands of reencoded pilots and officers throwing their bodies about like expendable cannon fodder.

"Commander Purple, Commander Red!" A deep, booming voice called urgently up through the horrific, bloody mayhem.

Purple managed a glance over his shoulder as he reluctantly snapped Red's other antennae in his overbearing clutch, cringing in excruciating agony when his partner cried out in blistering, unbearable anguish beneath him. He managed to catch sight of a glittering, overly luxurious Inquisitorian battle crown as Sledhob waded with extraordinary aptitude through the insatiable, ravenous mob with his long electric spear, shouting liquid curses in flowing Inquisitorian as he went. Finally, they had reinforcements!

"Sledhob, get to the stage! I need you to cover us when we go after the Control Brains!" Purple barked until he saw his ally throw back a curt nod, holding back his own unnerving emotion as his fiancé twisted powerfully and whipped madly under his excruciating, forceful clutch. Purple tried a halfhearted attempt at soothing him, letting go of his crippled antennae to run a shaky, inconsolable palm down over the back of his neck, feeling his razed body stiffen into the unexpectedly soft touch in the way he had done when they first experimented with one another. "I know it hurts, Red! I-I know, but I have to do it for your own good! You'll thank me later!" He shrunk back when Red tried another shot at landing an animalistic bite to his partner's abused skin, Purple digging his thighs into his shoulder blades to keep his PAK closed and his body firmly pinned as Lard Nar tried another attempt at reasoning with the menace untangling in frayed threads in front of them.

Pem stared on, shaking and trembling pitifully in his long tailcoat as he clutched his gloved hands close to his chest and felt the last fringes of sensible intellect slip away to nothing. "N-No…It wasn't supposed to…" He trailed off as he began to hyperventilate and bawl, falling apart completely as his teeth chattered through his awful, mind-bending shock like a child afraid of the dark. "I-I…I don't…Why am I alone again? Why…why am I…?" He couldn't form a coherent sentence anymore, slumping back down against the plush cushion beneath him as he gawked uncomprehendingly out at the sadistic war raging around them.

"Pem, please!" Lard Nar managed to kick free from Red's deteriorating grip, cursing to himself as the brains ascended completely through a weighty hatch set in the ceiling and out of sight. They had to get Purple's skilled hands as a mechanic up to wherever they were going, and they had to do it fast. With those motorized, turbulent demons sill online and traveling Irk knows where, the Armada still had a chance to trickle out to their heavy battleships waiting outside in the frigid Judgementian winter, immediately threatening the sanctity of both Irk and Vort in their dastardly, untamed compliance.

Lard Nar bounded forward on light feet, scooping up Pem's pistol from the once pristine floor and aiming it bitterly between his glassy, red-rimmed eyes. "Get up!" He demanded irately, gripping his nemesis with his free hand by the shoulder and forcing him to his feet as he babbled erratic nonsense. "Where are they going?!"

Pem sputtered and cowered down, losing all sense of self and succumbing to his greatest fears before throwing his hands over his face and wailing out his terror for everyone to hear. "I-I…I-I don't…"

"Tell me and I _won't_ kill you!" Lard Nar struggled to cock the heavy slide, grunting against the catch of metal on metal before grabbing Pem potently by the cheek and forcing the barrel against his temple. "I'm not playing anymore games! The fate of all our people depends on you doing the right thing for once!"

"I-I don't know! All I know is that t-they go upstairs when they want to hide!" Pem finally looked up, making deeply frightened, irrational eye contact with his love as he sobbed unreasonably into Lard Nar's palm forced against his cheekbone. "T-That's all I know, I promise!"

Purple bore down on the back of Red's neck with his piercing elbow as he continued to thrash weakly in his slowly faltering grip. "I don't believe you! You've been to where they're going haven't you?! Can you take us there?!" He asked frantically, ducking as an electric bolt of searing blue energy from an Inquisitorian rifle rocketed overhead that made his blown-out antennae ring with a deafening static. He glanced back and swallowed his terror when he noticed Kez finally coming to through her pain, attempting to push herself up in a groaning fugue. Pem had tried to torture them, indirectly caused Red to lose his tooth, attempted to blow them up, set them on fire, turned them against one another, and had shot Purple in the ribcage. Not to mention that his sniveling, nasally voice could easily piss off a saint. Was he really going to have to stoop so disgustingly low as to rely on his greatest enemy to help him end this war that he helped cause?!

"Can you?!"

Pem hesitated through his ragged breathing, wide gaze vaulting between the two as he tried to maintain his slippery, rapidly falling grip on what reality was anymore. "N-No! You…You tried to destroy my planet! You enslaved my people!"

Purple clenched his jaw when his anemic blood pressure spiked. "And you just tried to do the same to _mine_, so I'd say that makes us pretty even!" He felt himself slipping again, shaking the blurred feathering from the fringes of his vision as his adrenaline kicked in to keep him stable through the horrendous torture. "If you don't show us where they went, I'll choke you like I did to Urb Yen in the forest! You have no idea how bad I wanna see your shitty blood on my hands right now!" He threatened, baring his teeth menacingly as Pem swallowed against the darkening weight of his own pistol threatening his life.

"I-I…" He thought a moment through his tears, whining in unnerving panic when Lard Nar forced the warming metal further into his vulnerable temple and moved his eager finger to the sensitive trigger. "I-I want immunity!" He blurted out finally, staring down at where Red's dead eyes glared up to meet his and pick him clean like a repugnant, appalling snack. "W-When this is over, I also want an unmarked ship and enough…f-food rations for a week! N-No make it a month!"

Purple groaned angrily to himself, relaxing his hold on Red just enough to lean forward slightly over his broad shoulders. Now wasn't the time to bargain! He couldn't think, trying to run through the possible implications that letting Pem go would have; on one hand they could finish this war and finally put an end to the Control Brains reign of unknown terror, but Pem would be free to threaten and coerce the cosmos as he saw fit. On the other hand, they could shoot him and risk losing vital information he may have on how to properly bring the Control Brains offline for good, and threaten the sanctity of Irk. Maybe he could just lie to use Pem's meager knowledge before he shot him in the chest and gave him a taste of his own medicine?

"Fine! You can have your ship and your rations!" Purple finally lied with great, mind-numbing disinclination, irritated at his own compliance when Pem relaxed a bit in Lard Nar's authoritative hold. "But if you try anything dangerous or try to escape, I'm gonna give Captain Lard Nar permission to splatter your filthy brain all over the floor!" He retorted snidely, yelping when Red suddenly took advantage of the escalating situation and gained some semblance of vigor back, hurling Purple hard to the side and flying forward with slashing PAK extensions to try and rake through anything he could land his sickening touch on.

Lard Nar cried out in panic and fired a single shot from Pem's weighty pistol, connecting expertly with his friend's shoulder and dropping him immediately back to the ground as his collarbone shattered under the stress.

"No! N-No! What did you do?!" Purple cried out vehemently, almost forgetting the mission completely as his short-lived confidence and incredible spark of iron fisted leadership faded away to be replaced with gruesome anxiety and terror for the well-being of his code-drugged loved one. He flew down to Red's side when his ocular implants flickered and sputtered in varying waves of bizarre electrical stimulation, frantically bringing his hands to his bloodstained cheeks and smoothing his horrified fingers up over his limp, destroyed antennae. "Red, can you hear me?!" He bent down to press a soft kiss between his eyes, immediately pulling back when an Inquisitorian battle cry shattered the atmosphere.

Sledhob vaulted gracefully over the edge of the stage on long, needlelike legs, skidding to an abrupt stop and scooping up Purple in his strong feelers just as Red gave up his false front and raked forward, trying to land another harsh bite to his neck before pushing himself up alongside Kez who cocked her head in dubious intent before chattering unnervingly in a way that Purple had never heard an Irken sound. The unnerving echo of crunching bone and gushing blood cascading to the floor in gooey pools made Purple sick to his stomach as his ally forced him to his bare feet and practically dragged him on, pulling off his long cloak with a single flourish and wrapping it around his nude form as they tore off in the other direction to hunt for the back corridor. Lard Nar grabbed Pem by the wrist, digging his hooked claws into his flesh as he cried through the devastating influence of his unpredicted betrayal, shaking his head in non-compliance as his arm was practically pulled from its socket.

"Where do we go?!" Lard Nar demanded, ducking and sliding out of the way as Red gave chase on long PAK legs, wavering as he labored to keep himself upright over the excruciating, white-hot pain eating through his shoulder blade.

Pem glanced about wildly, trying to maintain his bearings through the terrible, shrieking chaos and thunderous boom of Inquisitorian rifles invading his war-torn senses from below, reverberating up through the floor as he willed himself on. He clutched desperately at Lard Nar's hand, using his reluctant fingers as an anchor for his flighty concentration and overdone anxiety, pointing to the back passage Sqorb had ushered them through. Sledhob made a mad dash for the hatch, throwing it open and thrusting everyone through before turning his staff on Red and Kez, firing a bolt of blazing, crackling blue lightning at the floor and sweeping his domineering static through the electrifying atmosphere, setting the ground ablaze with a roaring fire in wide sweeps and halting their brainwashed friends in their tracks as they stared through the rolling rumble of the inferno.

"Move now!" The Prime Minister demanded, putting his heavy weight against the door when Kez rocketed over the flames and gnashed wildly through the frame, worming her fervent fingers through the crack as Red fired repeatedly at the metal with domineering lasers, severely denting the once rigid titanium and sending Sledhob careening forward to the unforgiving ground, knocking his ornate crown from his head as he slammed face first into the baseboard.

Purple and Lard Nar rapidly took his place as he attempted to collect himself, scrambling for his staff and slashing at the frenzied, floundering hands desperate to sink their vicious grips into soft organs and tissue and rip them out one by one until they were no longer recognizable by name. Purple released his battered extensions for leverage, groaning and straining under the violent weight and incredible strength of his formidable partner intent on tearing his throat out with his teeth.

"Dammit, Red, would you just back off?!" He hissed dreadfully through his clenched grimace, glancing down briefly to where Lard Nar gripped carelessly at the edge of the door, eyes widening when Kez wiggled her way in through the crack and reared back, practically unhooking her jaw as she caught sight of his friend's venerable fingers. "Wait, no-!"

Crunch.

Lard Nar immediately relinquished his hold on the door, stumbling back with a bloodcurdling scream when Sledhob managed to thrust Kez's blood streaked face back with a hard punt from the end of his staff and slam the door shut. Purple worked with frantic expertise to weld the door shut with well-placed lasers, stooping and squinting against the backflow of hot sparks as Pem rushed forward in a panic and tried to grab at Lard Nar's mangled hand, clamping his own fingers over his mouth in repulsed dismay when he realized one of his three digits was missing, taken away by the sheer bite force of Kez's horrifying teeth.

"S-she…She took my finger!" He cried in horrific agony, slumping involuntarily against Pem's shoulder as his vision lapsed from nauseating shock, trying to hold himself together for the good of the mission but growing dizzy and precarious with every drop of blood that fell to the floor.

"Hold on, Captain, this isn't going to be pretty!" Sledhob set the end of his staff ablaze and heated the metal to a glowing red, snatching Lard Nar's flailing wrist against his will before shoving his wound down hard against the blistering heat without any warning to cauterize the spurting gash. Pem held him still with strong arms clenched around his waist as he writhed and nearly went unconscious from the excruciating torture alone, his entire arm set aflame with a blistering, unbearable pain he had never experienced in his long life, finally yanking back and knocking Pem to the ground under him as he wailed and twisted.

By the time Purple finished his hasty work, Red was back on the door, slamming and shrieking merciless, untamed profanities through the latch as he rapid fired blasts and weighty punches both. Oh Irk, what had he become? Purple pressed a palm to the surface of the rapidly heating metal, feeling his broken fiancé's advances thundering back like a precipitous heartbeat beneath his raw fingertips as his mind reeled with terrible images of Red trapped in his own psyche and warring savagely with the foreign code dancing and squeezing ruthlessly at his nervous system. He swallowed and curled deeper into Sledhob's heavy cape draped around his freezing shoulders, his touch lingering dangerously behind as Red cried his name out viciously like a dreadful curse, feeling himself lightly tugged away by the sharp feelers of the Prime Minister guiding him on behind the stumbling Vortians guiding their way. They had to finish this; had to finish this for Red. He had to get his partner back.

"There's an elevator at the end of the hallway." Pem instructed hurriedly with a sharp point, struggling to keep Lard Nar upright as he lulled in and out of reality and clasped his crushed hand to his chest. "It goes up forty floors to the top where they keep their dark matter core. I've seen it myself; it's a tiny blip of dark swirling gunk. Super weird looking stuff."

Dark matter? That was extraordinarily advanced, incredibly volatile technology. It was a near infinite source of energy, constantly pouring out deadly waves of intense radiation that could easily fry delicate PAK systems in an instant if it was thoughtlessly removed from its protective casing. This was going to be a risky job, but it would have to be done if Purple was going to keep the Armada from breaking free and attacking Irk and restore Red and Kez to their natural states. He was so utterly exhausted both mentally and physically, depleted completely of all blood sugar and morale but still…he had to do this. He had to end this war.

Purple followed closely at his heels as they ran, still suspicious of Pem's assistance but finding he didn't have much of a choice, imagining the advanced machinery in his head and running his free hand over the inadequate tools he had remaining in his belt as he panted. "Describe it for me. What's it look like?" He stuttered, going through his possibilities and preparing for the worst.

Pem thought a moment, blinking and narrowing his eyes fiercely to the idea of actually giving away vital information to the enemy he had stalked for years. "No! If you wanna-"

Lard Nar blinked himself back into the moment at the sweltering retort and reached up with his free hand to backhand Pem hard across the cheek, stopping him cold in his tracks with a sudden yelp before snatching his wrist again and dragging him on as he tried to readjust his aching jaw. "Tell him now or I shoot you!" He struggled to reach for the pistol in his belt with his bad hand, finding his remaining two fingers had gone completely numb to all feeling but the chill hanging mercilessly in the air. "Do it!"

Pem threw a hot hand in the air with an angry, immature huff, yanking away and shoving his hands hard into his pockets with a solemn pout as they continued their lung popping sprint down the length of the gargantuan passageway. "Good grief, I feel like I'm married again!" He scolded with a sneer of disgust, shooting daggers in Lard Nar's direction as he grappled fervently with the concept of what it truly meant to be morally upstanding for once. "It sits in the middle of the room and sorta looks like a generator. It's all covered in some kind of glass bubble with a weird rotating disk thing in the middle that keeps the energy flowing…I think."

Purple rolled his eyes and gave an exasperated sideways glance to Sledhob who shrugged back in utter confusion, more in awe that he had actually made it into the Spike of Judgement than anything. "That's really vague, you know." He bit, irritated when Pem stuck out his slimy tongue in a clear display of disgusted disobedience. "I need more to go on than the word "thing" if this is ever gonna work!"

"That's all I remember! I've only seen it once!"

"Aren't you supposed to be a former engineer or something? I thought you were supposed to have a high IQ for a job like that!"

"My IQ is off the charts, _thank you_!"

Sledhob thrust his way past his two quarreling teammates and took the advance, glancing over his bony shoulder and clicking his mandibles incessantly to annoy the two out of their infuriating spat. "Gentleman, _please_, now is the time to put aside our differences to-"

He flipped forward with a sudden jerk when something thick and ropy smashed and dug its way through the wall with a deafening boom, punching a mammoth, jagged hole through the steel as cords and wires of all girths and sizes tangled and sped in rapid succession around Sledhob's thin ankles. He yelped and dropped his staff, reaching out as it skidded just out of reach before he was hoisted upside down from the floor with an unexpected shout of horrified surprise. Lard Nar shrieked when Pem took off and left them behind in his own infantile, preposterous fear, screaming like a child halfway down the hallway before spinning on his heel and watching the commotion from afar like the repulsive coward he was deep down. Lard Nar yelled something frantically over the deafening, disturbing sound of slithering tendrils and the constant explosion of Red banging hard against the hatch further back, gripping for Sledhob's mechanical staff and chucking it dexterously to Purple who immediately caught it and flipped one of the myriad of golden switches dotting the side, lurching from the recoil when a massive plasma bolt flew from the razor-sharp tip and ripped at the sentient cables to sever a few from where they curled and licked through the gaping darkness. Lard Nar fired on impulse, overheating Pem's pistol to the brink of shorting it out as he aimed at the filthy, disgusting jumble moving to curl around the Prime Minister's long abdomen, slowly squeezing the air from his lungs as he struggled violently for relief against the cruel strangulation. Finally, Purple was able to recollect himself from the wounding shock of the heavyweight blast, aiming with a concentrated squint and bracing himself hard against the floor before firing once again, obliterating the strange, horrific tendril in a shower of rebounding cerulean sparks, watching in bewilderment as they rocketed through the length of the appendage and fried the internal mechanisms with a cloud of thick smoke. Sledhob was released and promptly dropped to the floor with a crack, struggling to roll over as his sore body threatened to fail him. Purple grabbed him by the shoulder and drug him hard out of the way, flinching at the horrid pain in his side when another onerous, domineering cluster of cables came smashing down and shook the floor beneath them as Sledhob shook his delirium from his head and flew to his feet, pulling Purple along as he cried out at the unbearable agony at the wound festering up into his chest cavity.

"Move! Get to the elevator! They're defending themselves!" The Prime Minister called frantically to Lard Nar, who shot off like a bullet, Pem hot on his zipping trail as the walls rippled and bubbled like thick, cloying liquid; thousands of skittering, slithering vines pushing back against the heavy titanium and threatening to burst out and claim terrified pulses at any second, piercing more holes the entire way down as a peculiar sound wafted up over Purple's antennae, forcing him to frown and glance back. Sledhob snatched back his elongated weapon and quickly willed it to charge, straining to focus his massive cherry eye on where Purple's steely vision was fixated. One by one, tiny faces poked through the contorted walls and struggled to scratch their way though the myriad of openings the Control Brains had perforated for their massive, robotic army, sliding to the floor in heaps and droves like strange slugs. Armada pilots and officers flopped through in buzzing droves from the infringements, folding in over one another as Red finally sliced his way through the worn-down steel of the hatch with his PAK legs, shouting something incoherent that Purple couldn't recognize but knowing it wasn't good judging by the bloodthirsty gawk plastered on his strong face as Kez skittered about hysterically through the crowd like a precocious insect.

"I thought your men had the Armada distracted!" Purple yelled over the stomping of heavy combat boots and clinking pistols firing horrendously from behind as they bobbed and weaved together around raging ringlets and automated fronds threatening to scoop them up and devour them whole in their seemingly never-ending nest.

Sledhob spun energetically, firing back into the masses curling together as a collective unit out for blood, raging forward in a cloud of nasty clinking teeth and slurred, inarticulate words shouted in fractured Irken as loose mouths frothed. "They're coming up the walls!" He yelled back, flying forward when they finally reached the end of the hallway and helped Lard Nar and Pem pry open the dead doors to the now destroyed elevator shaft. "Use your strange Irken technology and climb to the top!"

Purple hesitated and bit his lip, poking through and staring down the horrifying, perilous thirty story drop descending into the ground below them before staring up at the dangerously high incline shooting straight up through the smoggy clouds outside. Light radiated in from the wide glass windows dotting the shaft, only making him woozy with overpowering height sickness when he caught sight of the ground outside.

"What about you? You're too heavy I can't-"

"Don't worry about me, boy. This isn't my first war. Now go! I'll hold them off as long as I can!" Sledhob didn't give them a chance to respond, sprinting forward with a trilling war cry and wading into the aggressive, murderous crowd as he viciously tossed tiny bodies around like they weighed nothing, slamming indoctrinated combatants into walls and flailing wildly when they attempted to scratch their way up his long, fluttering robes and bog him down to their waiting, lathering mouths.

Purple held his breath, swallowing down his translucent, dreadful fear before grabbing Lard Nar and slinging him up over his shoulders like luggage, staring down unenthusiastically at Pem who held his arms up in the air with an overpoweringly irritating expectancy. Purple rolled his eyes and grabbed him around the waist, holding him close to his chest and coating him in the stale blood he had forced him to shed as he shimmied his way into the shaft, swallowing before tentatively extending out a mechanical extension, latching into the mess of ribbed slats lining the railway before gingerly pulling himself through and balancing precariously in his weightless suspension. He gave a tentative tug, pulling himself up ever so slowly with a pained groan, feeling his PAK legs overextend against the weight of the two terrified Vortians weighing him down. Ok. He could do this. He did this when Pem challenged them on the Massive, and he could do it here. As long as he kept as quiet as he possibly could, clamping his mouth shut to still his heavy breathing, maybe he would go unnoticed enough to make the grueling forty story climb to the pinnacle and destroy the disgusting dictators pressing their metaphorical thumbs down on his back like a cockroach. He couldn't afford to attract any more lethal attention at this point; not when they were so close…so close to the Control Brains that he could practically smell the hot swathes of electricity and rancid stench of liquid coolant pouring through their makeshift veins. He nodded to himself, climbing a few more feet and passing slowly over the first floor of many, pumping up his own confidence when he found a rhythm that allowed him to glide effortlessly along with every precarious heave, clutching firmly to Pem's petite waist when he slung his thighs around Purple's hips for leverage, trying not to look down into the ominous pit of hell spanning below them.

Don't look down.

Don't….look….down.

"Purple? Where are you?"

Purple froze a few floors up from the door at the calm, serene sound of a gorgeous, familiar voice calling out to him through Sledhob's unruly, distressed shouts and searing plasma shots raking through unsuspecting flesh. Did he dare look down? Did he…dare look down? Pem dug his panicky claws excruciatingly into Purple's sides as he worked up the fleeting courage to glance back down with a brief, shallow inhale, catching sight of two bottomless crimson orbs glittering back in the pale light and a tattered smile grinning up at him from the entrance to the shaft. He had done a number on Red's mouth, wincing at the second empty socket splitting his once perfect two front teeth into an over exaggerated gap as he smiled, a viscid concoction of sickening saliva and insipid blood staining his chin and the front of his previously unspoiled Inquisitorian robes. He was struggling with special reasoning, flicking his broken antennae forward to try and judge the distance between Purple and the hatch, but coming up short and shaking the searing, throbbing tenderness from the back of his overridden skull as he attempted to reel himself back in and focus through his blurry lenses. He looked absolutely grisly and ravaged, forcing Purple's weak pulse to skip a beat at the thought that he had helped cause his unsuspecting partner so much heartache and physical torture.

"Holy shit, Red…I'm so sorry..." Purple blurted out at the derisible state his unsuspecting lover was actually in, panicking when his wide gaze landed on the unpleasant, abysmal wound carved into his flesh by the flash of Pem's robust plasma pistol. He itched to throw himself down and disconnect Red from his PAK completely, just long enough to rid him of the awful coding eroding his delicate system to get him help for his inexcusable physical suffering, feeling his own moribund, heartbreaking emotions rearing their ugly head when he knew he couldn't. Red didn't seem to mind, paying no attention to the jagged bone protruding with teasing revulsion from his ruined skin as he beamed jovially through the obvious agony swimming in his dreary, dull eyes.

"D-Don't try anything! I know it's not you and…a-and I know you can hear me!"

"Who are you talking to, baby? It's me! And what's up with the whole vanishing act here? You gonna come down or what?" Red asked with a light, affectionate chuckle, throwing his cut laden hands on his hips as Kez fell in beside him with an excited jump, ignoring Purple's frantic warning shout and rubbing at the slowly healing, ghastly fracture in her tiny wrist.

"Sir, are you alright?" She giggled pleasantly before glancing up in misunderstanding. "You know we're winning right? Why don't you come down and see?"

Purple felt his pulse rip through his body when Lard Nar clutched firmly at his antennae and shook his head against his skin, trying to steer him decisively on from the realistically false sirens calling down to them with overinflated promises of heartwarming kisses and hugs, two puppets forced to do the bidding of their horrible, appalling masters hiding away deep in the pinnacle of the Spike. Purple shook his head despondently and went to turn, forcing himself to leave his future husband behind just a bit longer before stopping himself again as Red called out in mounting distress, clutching anxiously at the door to the shaft and leaning forward dangerously over the gaping cavern spreading below him and threatening to swallow him whole.

"Please, just let him go! If you wanna ruin someone, ruin me!" Purple called back to the Control Brains whirling cleverly in his partner's PAK and waltzing in his blood, rage peaking and cresting through his own suffering as he watched their mechanical leaders force Red's body further over the wide gap, threatening to drop him to his death on a moment's notice. "Let's talk about this, face to face like men!"

Red merely purred back up at him, tutting his blood-soaked tongue against the roof of his mouth and running it over his teeth to smear his own molten lifeforce over every ridge and tiny imperfection he could find. "You're not making any sense, Pur. I think you're just tired. Come down and we'll go rest." He smoothed over with a hum, extending a trembling hand up as far as he could to try and appear inviting, only repelling Purple back more when Lard Nar clutched resolutely at his pistol.

"You know I can't do that."

"Why not, honey?"

"Stop it with the pet names! I hate hearing you talk through his mouth! He's too good for you to touch and ruin like this!"

"For who to touch? Pur, you're confused. It's me, Red. It's always been me. What you're seeing is a figment of your stress. I called out to you and you ran away because you're delusional." Red swallowed, choking slightly on the metallic taste before blinking back up at his partner with something bordering on concern, a convincing ploy but not realistic enough. Purple knew him too well to be fooled by that; he knew every minute nuisance of Red's eyes as they flickered over his form, every little habit he ceaselessly performed on impulse with his claws, every smell of trauma induced pheromones grazing over his bustling antennae. All he could smell now was blood; he couldn't smell Red. Couldn't smell his cologne.

"No. I'm coming to see you and you can't stop me." Purple growled, letting his hoarse voice shatter into a yell before mouthing a silent apology to his partner's body, knowing somewhere deep in the reaches of that shell of an Irken, Red was fighting. It was just in his nature and Purple knew he would break through eventually. He had to break through.

"Pur…I'm getting worried about you. Just come down slowly and we'll figure this mess out together like we always do. I'm not letting you do this by yourself." Red's voice was soft-hearted and dreamy, a misleadingly romantic slur patched together by the Control Brains to try and amiably throw him off track from the dire importance of his mission. It pricked, distorted, and twisted every cell in Purple's body as he fought against his growing need to relinquish himself over to the splendor and warm protection of his partner, furiously reminding himself on a depressing loop that Red wasn't in his right mind at the moment. He was trapped in his own mind, buried under miles of dubious malware threatening to kill them all. Purple couldn't fall for it. If he did everyone he knew, his beautiful home planet, and the planets of hundreds more in their immediate star system alone could fall to the imaginary clutches of wraithlike minds seeking unnecessary dominance that wasn't theirs for the taking.

"Baby?" Red breathed lovingly, reaching out for the other end of the shaft and latching his sharp PAK legs into the rugged grooves. "Don't leave me down here with these freaks. Let me take you away from this place…we can find our own way somewhere new. Just the two of us, forever. We can build you a new engineering lab like you've always wanted." He reached out with sultry arms as if expecting Purple to drop deadweight into his grip, blinking a few times before going stagnant and letting them fall back to his sides.

"Geez, you don't even _sound_ like him. And I was never an engineer! I was a _mechanic_, idiots!" Purple responded with tentative but voracious caution, creeping ever so slowly up the infinite tunnel as Red followed him through on firm, spidery extensions with a sickly-sweet smile that almost made him nauseous to look at.

Red watched him from below for a long while, every muscle in his overtaken body tensed and ready to pounce as his grin faded back to the same horrid, expressionless stare that made Purple's pummeled, frigid skin crawl under the sheer force of the devastating stress pushing back against him. They were locked in a deadly stalemate, neither wanting to breathe or strip away horrific gazes from the other out of fear of losing their much-needed edge in the silent war they were fighting alone in the dark. Sledhob screamed out something as he blasted away, earning the attention of Red's alarming shell as he turned momentarily to glance out through the shaft door, giving Purple a chance to shoot off with lightning speed, climbing in rapid succession to gain as much distance as he could between them before his formidable partner caught up to them and literally cubed him to pieces. He couldn't hear, overwhelmed by the pounding of his own bloodstream ringing in his antennae and the clanking of dozens of PAK legs scraping disastrously against well-worn metal; floors flew by in rapid succession, blurs of incoherent smearing color and strobing pastel light as Purple forced himself beyond his staggering, overbearing limit, urging himself to move a bit faster, a bit farther, a bit more efficiently as Red let out a throaty rasp of a violent growl beneath him and gave in to the mind-numbing, terrifying chase Purple never thought he would have to endure.

"Lard Nar!" Purple yelled over the blinding rush of sharp air splitting into his cold-chapped cheeks. "Distract him! But I swear to Irk if you hit him again, I'm throwing you down the hatch and letting you die!"

Lard Nar stuck out his tongue and took aim, faltering when the bounce of Purple's PAK legs against the shaft threw off his ability to gauge his target, cursing frantically under his breath and gasping in desperate shock when Pem reached around Purple's hip and snatched the pistol from his hand, squinting down the sight and firing an expert shot from around Purple's heaving side, barely missing Red by a few inches and forcing him to cry out and scramble to shove his hands over his ringing antennae.

"Do you trust me?!" Pem shouted suddenly, meeting Purple's wide, frantic gaze with his determined, steady olive as he braced himself firmly against his enemy's stomach and grabbed at his cape for leverage. "I asked you if you trust me!"

Purple scowled back with a hot grimace before wildly shaking his head. "Why would I trust you after everything you've done to me?!" He replied heatedly, nearly slipping as he passed the twentieth-floor mark and kept going through the sweat pooling on his depleted, utterly exhausted brow. "If you shoot my husband, if you even _graze_ him, I'll drop you! That's a promise!" He forewarned with a ferociousness that had Pem hesitating.

"Just hold on to me and don't let go!" Pem ordered with an odd tranquility for the thrill of the moment, kicking off of Purple's aching, torn abdomen as he struggled to keep a hold on his squirming ankles, letting him hang dangerously upside down in the pounding breeze as he took a few deep, calm breaths and wrapped both hands around his grip to stabilize his expert shot. He yelled something back to the Control Brains in rugged Vortian and used his domineering, extensive Elite training to efficiently take out two of Red's flaring PAK joints with skilled, talented grace, shattering his mechanical legs and forcing him to retreat with a violent, droning shout back down to where Kez waited in blank spitefulness as they watched the group ascend out of sight. At least now Red would be in Sledhob's capable hands; he could babysit his hollow shell until Purple was able to restore him to the gorgeous, intelligent Irken he had fallen in love with.

"Hell yes, that was incredible!" Purple hoisted the little Vortian up by his ankles and matched his enthusiastic sharp-toothed grin, immediately letting it fade when he realized whose psychotic, repulsive eyes he was staring back into before he flipped him right side up and slung him back around to clutch to his good side. Huh. Pem really _was_ a good shot.

It didn't take long to completely break through the shaft, Purple letting Pem and Lard Nar cross to the shut door first, reaching out to press his hands against the smalls of their backs as they worked in tandem to pry open the substantial sliding metal and hold it so Purple could vault through and pull them on to the other side before it slammed, the mismatched trio landing hard against the ground and rolling over with a collective groan. Pem had accidentally dropped his pistol down the tunnel, leaving them completely defenseless besides Purple's overexerted, unbelievably sore PAK legs and his meager, now pathetic excuse for a mechanic's belt.

Purple refused to open his eyes against the familiar sting of overpowering static flushing alongside his body in unpleasant waves, crawling disconcertingly over his skin like a million filthy, slimy fingers stabbing at him all at once and forcing Sledhob's silken cape to cling to his atrophied form against his will. The atmosphere itself stunk of a cleanliness so overly sterile that it almost hurt; not a speck of dust or foreign material was permitted here amongst the ominous, menacing creak and low groan of segmented wires curling up over metal walls and snaking around through alternating, pulsating sprays of magenta luminosity dancing and glowing revoltingly over locked, terrified eyelids. There was a persistent, mind-numbing hum tinged generously with a low, moaning whisper of white noise stifling Purple's precious special cognition to throw off his much needed ability to gauge his immediate surroundings as his antennae strained this way and that, trailing back to flick lightly at the floor and scent his unacquainted environment. He'd never smelled anything quite like this before…Barren, hygienic, deeply unfamiliar yet profoundly exotic and strangely tantalizing. It was almost intoxicating, setting his mouth to water at the absolute perfection of it all, running the palms of his cracked hands over the glow swathed floor and eating up the bizarre feeling of a surface so level and clean he couldn't find a single tiny ridge or diminutive fracture in the titanium beneath his fingertips. How? How could a place this perfect exist in their world? Was he dreaming?

Purple took a slow, shuddering breath and finally, with great effort, peeled open his gaze to stare up at the ceiling of the pinnacle they had somehow made it to through the dangerous commotion below, immediately forcing himself up to a kneel when he felt his jaw go slack at the vast, immeasurable exquisiteness staring back at him from above. It was almost as if he had walked into the most detailed, gorgeous painting in the known universe, standing slowly on his bare feet and losing himself to the absolutely breathtaking sight. Every color he could possibly fathom and more draped and swayed effortlessly from pulsating cords and wires, illuminating the deep, pervasive blackness with a stunning display of radioactive elegance that danced and shimmered over Purple's wide amethyst eyes as he stood completely mesmerized and transfixed by the thousands of previously unseen designs and forms, buffeting his mind with dramatic, insatiable splendor. Patterns weaved and bobbed like a never-ending sea of distressingly stunning, absolutely gorgeous eddies and mechanical tides coming together in a pulsating whirlpool of blinding radiance and cosmic glow that was wholly inexpressible to the senses. It was formless, yet perfect; disturbing, yet astoundingly beautiful. By the dumfounded gawk on Lard Nar's face, it was obvious that he felt the same, staring up at the extraordinary richness and depth of the rare sight from behind his bright yellow goggles, a look of unmitigated wonderment smeared over his thin mouth and cheeks as Pem crowded in close behind him in uneasy anticipation for something that remained hidden, tucked away in the spidery gloom of carefully concealed corners as Purple reached down and wrapped himself completely in Sledhob's cape against the eerie, otherworldly draft breezing through the massive, cradling nest of wires and nipping gently at his body with a wraithlike peskiness. He took a tentative step forward into the breathtaking warmth of the ethereal rose glow, feeling it wash over him and coat him in a strange knowledge he wasn't privy to before.

This place…was this….?

Lard Nar followed closely behind as Pem held his breath and reached out to snatch him back out of the bizarre luminosity, keeping him carefully concealed in the shadows at the edge of the unearthly radiance and bringing a shaky claw to his lips to urgently advise him to stay quiet for his own safety. Lard Nar snapped out of his trance at the idea of a psychopath like Pem even finding himself uneasy in a place like this, turning and waving in wild silence for Purple to move back to little avail, trying to go after him but finding himself ruthlessly pinned by Pem's strong grip to the pleasantly cool ground.

Purple continued on in a dreamlike reverie, becoming lost to the strange, steady heartbeat thumping peacefully under his feet as he approached a massive suspension system. He stared up in bewildered astonishment at the fascinating, complex intricacies of the colossal generator keeping the Control Brains intact, watching the tiny, amorphous smidgen of dark matter dance and flit with jittery exhilaration inside a massive globe of crystal-clear glass. It wavered and shimmered in a encrusted vivacity, mimicking the generous swath of scaly, opulent fabric draped around Purple's now peaceful shoulder blades as he continued on, giving a soft, longing gasp to the bizarre copper ring encircling the perfectly polished orb. It spun leisurely over the glass, raking it ever so gently with a soft clink as it pulled and tugged at the fringes of the never ending source of archaic, interstellar energy with every rotation, dragging it down into the floor and thrusting it out across a myriad of quivering wires and motherboards itching to get closer and drink from the proverbial electronic fountain of youth.

"Woah…" Purple managed to breathe through his intense, Irk-shattering awe, stepping back a few paces as the ring completed another cycle and came dangerously close to his chest before gliding away to start the whole ingenious process again. This was by far the finest, purest source of energy he had ever laid eyes on, sweeping it with a burning curiosity as his need for ingenuity and efficiency overcame him like a light switch. Inquisitoria had something similar to this at the center of their society and used it to power their ships. They never had to refuel, never produced harmful emissions, and allowed for sonic jumps four times as powerful than what even the Massive was capable of in its glorious life. Had Miyuki known this was here? She could have utilized this incredible feat of ancient Irken engineering, the very handiwork of their long-lost ancestors, to power their entire planet instead of pulling and tugging the lifeforce from the molten core of Vort.

This…this could change everything!

Then, something peculiar washed over Purple as he sunk deeper and deeper into his own thoughts, sending a strange tingling down to his toes as he was swamped with an undying, profound need to reach out and touch the chilly glass for himself, to feel the hum of infinite energy coursing through every fiber and cell in his body to set him alight with a primeval force never known to any living Irken eyes. He took a deep, tranquil inhale and allowed himself to relax almost completely as the strange pulsating speck practically called his name and beckoned him in like a long-lost friend, urging him to indulge in just one little taste of domination…one little inkling of invincibility. He reached out with a soft smile, smitten and captivated by the limitless shapes changing and folding before his eyes, almost taking a solid form before slumping away like a cooling liquid.

Just one touch.

All he needed was one touch…

A tiny, ferocious hand reached up and snatched at his wrist, breaking Purple out of his odd, ghostly daze as he glanced down with a disordered blink, meeting Lard Nar's irate stare as Pem smacked himself in the side of the face from the shadows, gasping in knowing shock and crouching down in a layer of cables and lines when the slithering around them became urgent and rushed. The throbbing beneath their feet increased as angular, smoldering slits of eyes emerged from every corner, crowding on top of one another and flitting expertly around tiny, lithe frames and remarkable tendrils contorting and twisting together for support as they craned to see the strange intrusion snooping and nosing around their prized, invaluable power source. Lard Nar reached up and grabbed at Purple's cloak out of fear as the deafening heartbeat radiated outwards like a vibrant, all-encompassing drum, deafening the three as more and more brains appeared from the ceiling and from around shady inclines. Purple stared up in horror as the rafters and walls filled to the brim with steely, unforgiving eyes piercing down upon them and crowding in together to get a better look at the former Tallest they had dubbed a ruthless terrorist to their dastardly, stomach-turning, imperialistic blight raining down throughout the Empire and the universe.

There were _hundreds_.

No…how was this possible? The brains were built by Irken pioneers during the founding of the planetary coalition to help make dire decisions based on brute, honest fact. There were only thirty of them known to exist in the whole of the universe, not the dozens upon dozens that were now leaning in and bobbing restfully through the chilling light to threateningly greet their foes with the same menacing vigor as they had downstairs. Where did they all come from? Why were they here? Had someone built them or were they…building _themselves_? As Purple ran through infinite questions in his racing mind and came up short for any logically conceivable answer, he watched in panic-stricken awe as the gargantuan head brain slithered down from above, perching itself dutifully in a well crafted nest above the generator as it continued to leisurely turn and suck the inestimable source of lucid being from the twitching mass quivering before them all. Its form shuddered and pulsed with the same familiar buoyancy Purple had witnessed during numerous trials, urging his incredulous eyes away from the impossible throng of beasts writhing robotically above him down to the shadows as two familiar figures moved forward through the darkness to stand respectfully on either side of the generator. Red moved to the right, crossing his hands respectfully behind his back as he stared forward expressionlessly, and Kez moved to the left, resting a hand sweetly on her hip as she too shared the same deadpan expression. How had they gotten here? _Why_ were they here? There were too many despicable queries and not enough reasonable answers, making Purple's head swim as Pem fell in next to Lard Nar from where he had been hiding, glaring up with seething, untamed rage at the head brain as it descended and boomed in a strident, all-powerful voice that caused the very foundation of the swarming room to quake.

"My kind and I welcome you to the very center of our ambitious hatchery; our ingenious council is ready to sweep our fortunate galaxy with a new, better era of intelligent, perfect life…welcome to The Collective."

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Oh boy this was a long one! Hope you guys enjoyed and tell me what you think about those sneaky brains doing sneaky brain stuff! Thank you for your continued support and you all are seriously fantastic. I mean it!

_**Next Update: Sunday, November 10, 2019 at 10:00 pm CDT (UTC -5). Stay tuned!**_


	25. Evil is Forever

Welcome back to our bi-weekly posting! Thank you all for waiting and coming back for more, because, as I always say, we wouldn't be here without all of you! You guys make this happen, and I'm so thankful to have so many awesome viewers like you! Ok, have fun!

(GRAMMAR MISTAKES/REDUNDANCY FIXED BY AUTHOR CHARLOTTE AND BETA TOM ON 11/10/2019 11:02 PM)

_**CHAPTER 26 WILL BE UPDATED ON THURDAY, NOVEMBER 14 AT 12:30 PM CDT (UTC -5). I AM DEDICATED TO MAKING QUALITY CONTENT FOR YOU AND I DIDN'T GET THROUGH EVERYTHING I WANTED TO AT THE MOMENT AND THERE'S STILL A LOT I WANT TO TOUCH ON, AND I DON'T WANT TO RUSH IT AND IT TO SOUND TERRIBLE. I HOPE YOU GUYS UNDERSTAND WHEN I HAVE DELAYS LIKE THIS AND I LOVE YOU ALL! THANK YOU FOR YOUR CONTINUED SUPPORT AND I WILL SEE YOU VERY, VERY SOON!**_

_**any time we experience delays I will never delay a story over one full business day. If you are unsure about posting times too, feel free to check my Instagram Charlocatty, because I post chapter previews and delay update times there. Have a good night lovelies!**_

**Chapter rated M for graphic depictions of blood/violence/gore, brief strong language, suggestive themes, and general adult content.**

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"I don't care who you are or what you want." Purple growled dangerously, feeling Lard Nar clutch at the bottom of his cloak as he shivered in terror under the opaque, ominous light pouring from the disgusting slits of eyes staring down upon them. "You're _going_ to let Red and Kez go, and I'm _going_ to walk out of here."

"I don't think that would be conducive to our desires." The head brain hissed lowly, rocking slightly in its precarious suspension system as tendrils curled and licked up at its dastardly mechanical face. "They are to be the first wave in our divine plan to sweep the universe with a more intelligent, superior culture."

Purple blinked in alarmed discomfort, letting his gaze fall back down to where Red shifted through the darkness, completely rigid and expressionless, as he began to run his stiff fingers up over the crimson clasps of his expensive silk robes, working them off with habitual ease. Kez did the same, robotically moving ahead to unhurriedly strip her tiny form of her communication's headset before making quick work of her dress, slipping it over her head and letting it drop languidly to the floor, leaving her completely nude to the chill in the air. Red did the same, letting the expensive bolt of shimmering Inquisitorian cloth fall away from his blood streaked body in a show of artificial, constrained compliance.

"What are you doing?" Purple narrowed his eyes fiercely and took a step forward, wavering where he stood when Red shot him a look of derisive malice. "What do you mean the first wave?!"

The brains collectively chortled with one another, feeding off of each other's energy and ebbing and flowing over tangles of wires as they exchanged information. "Their material clothing will simply get in the way for the transfer." They rang out vaguely, only further confusing Purple where he stood.

Pem bounded into the pale, rosy light from behind, nearly tripping over slinking cords and twisting fronds to grab ruthlessly at Lard Nar's shoulders, yanking him back into his intimidating, determined grip with a wide, disgusting smile as he brushed back the thick tail of his coat to grab for a primitive Vortian minigun he'd kept carefully concealed. He wrapped a controlling arm around his throat and brought the secret pistol to his temple, dragging him back a few feet from Purple's side as he gasped and kicked, glaring up at the head brain with an unnerving, steadfast glare.

"Yes, yes, first wave this, first wave that. Who cares if you become sentient?"

"What do you mean…_sentient_?" Purple's antennae flicked forward with unnerved interest, trying to rationalize just how much Pem had really known this whole time. He tried to take a step forward, quickly realizing they weren't on the same side anymore and feeling his overwhelming anger resurface once more at the thought of having been ignorant enough to actually think Pem had any shred of decency left in him. He stopped when the wired Vortian gripped tighter at his friend's throat, forcing an airy gag out of him when his lip twitched dangerously to reveal his long teeth.

"Stay back! I'm calling the shots here!" He barked, trying to brush Lard Nar's horns from his face with a huff when he attempted to rear back and crack him in the face. "Don't think I won't shoot him!" He chuckled with an uncanny, dark disinterest, tightening his asphyxiating grip when Lard Nar attempted to wiggle free and flip him. He held firm, staring the throng of humming robotic creatures down as he ran his slimy tongue over his teeth. "I know you all want to off me now, but why don't we think about this logically for a second and strike one last deal?" The suggestion came out as a sultry, liquid purr, eating at the electric atmosphere as he held firm to his request.

"Irk dammit, Pem! Why can't you just shut up and get out of my life?!" Purple shouted back, completely done and worn down to the bone by the idiotic rampage the little monster had sprinkled over his excruciatingly exhausted life.

Pem snorted and leaned down, planting his cheek firmly against his prisoners and smashing their jaws together possessively. "Stay out of this, tall boy." He sneered lightly, flicking his green gaze over Purple's rage trembling shoulders when he clenched his fists. "This is between me, my boyfriend, and them."

"Do I have a say in this?! I'm not your boyfriend!" Lard Nar spat, clenching his teeth when Pem ignored him completely.

"No! All you ever do is get in my way every time I think I've gotten rid of you!" Purple threw his hands in front of him out of exasperation, his scratchy voice cracking with weary enervation and horrendous frustration. "I trusted you because I thought you were finally changing! We're on the same side!"

Pem rolled his eyes in superficial apathy. "I'm on my _own_ side, no one else's. You were winning for a few minutes, and I couldn't have gotten up here by myself, so I took the opportunity to capitalize on your success. It's not my fault you're always too dumb to figure things out. Now you know what it feels like to trust someone and have them destroy everything you worked so hard to achieve." The obvious allusion to Miyuki stung and forced Purple to hold his sharp tongue when Red clicked his long claws together forebodingly.

The brain remained deathly silent and Purple couldn't tell if it was out of angry, dismayed spite or if it was genuinely caught off guard for once, the creak of the gargantuan generator and the sound of gently clinking glass the only eerie sound bouncing through the tiny room. They were meant to be omnipotent, all-knowing and all-seeing gods of pure energy and perfection capable of almost divining the future through their impeccable abilities to read the atmosphere. How could something as simple as that catch them off guard?

"Well, what do you say?" Pem tutted his tongue with a childish impatience and forced the petite pistol further into Lard Nar's hypersensitive temple as his breath caught and he scrambled to try and pry off his captor's arm from around his delicate throat. "In exchange for me not blowing this place to hell, I get to keep Lard Nar and leave with him in my ship. You will not use the Armada to come after us, won't trace my jump codes, and will never bother me again. Don't test me, now; I've been adding explosives to this place for months just in case something like this happened."

Every wire in the room quivered with tense anticipation at the unsavory admonition, a shuddering mess of writhing, snakelike horror as each small contraption turned to their mammoth leader to eye it with growing suspicion as it thought long and hard about Pem's sinister proposal.

"I do not believe you have the capability to cause such damage to our fortress. The probability that you have such resources is highly unlikely." The brain responded finally, craning forward to thoroughly examine the unstable menace of a Vortian threatening their disturbing colony.

Pem tried to hold back a ferocious laugh but failed, throwing his head amiably to the side and squeezing his eyes shut as he was overcome with a genuine hilarity at what was supposed to be an insult, letting it roll off his shoulders like rain. "Oh, please! You saw what I did to the Massive! 'The ship that will never fail' they called it, blown to hilarious bits by my explosive expertise! Geez, it's like you guys don't understand that I used to design weapons for a living. I guess you could call me a bit of a pyromaniac. There's always been something about the fire and the screaming that's just so…_sexy_." He re-centered himself when he went off on a tangent, pressing his cold lips to the side of Lard Nar's face against his will to mouth out the terrifying word deliciously to his skin. "Did you really think I would come in here and traipse around with monsters like you without a failsafe? I'm not stupid, you know." He scoffed harshly and flipped the safety on his pistol, glowering up from behind stoic, bitter eyelids. "I keep Lard Nar and you keep your lives and the others, or we all go down in flames and I use my last breath to laugh in your face as you explode! I'll give you ten seconds to think on it."

Purple's pulse lurched when Pem began his droning, ominous countdown, hanging on every number like it was honey and letting it flutter from his lips with a sweet cruelty that had the brains panicking. They had emotions? Strange…Purple was almost sure that they were designed to be completely detached and impassive; the presence of feelings and rational thought led to irrational decision making that would pose major problems for the delicate sanctity of the Empire. Even so, they flittered about frantically and talked amongst each other in a troubling robotic language foreign to Irken antennae with each slowly passing numeral, running through their precarious options at blinding speeds and bouncing code back and forth as they attempted to find a way out of their supposed doom. Purple glanced back to Red and Kez, still standing a considerable distance apart as he wrangled with his own escalating internal struggle. He bounded forward and threw his shaky hands hard on Red's motionless shoulders, looking him square in the eye while the brains were distracted and wavering at the edges of his system and searching for any inkling of movement behind his overcast lenses that he could hook his fingers in and drag back out.

He was in there somewhere…he had to be.

"Six!" Pem sang the horrific syllable like a terrible showtune, planting another hasty kiss to the side of Lard Nar's face as he struggled violently against his chest. "I wonder how pretty you'll all look shrouded in burning sparks! Ah! I feel like it's my birthday!"

"Red?" Purple hissed under the wild commotion, running a swift thumb up over his cheek and turning him side to side as he stared forward with detached, apathetic objective. "Come on! I know you can hear me, asshole!" He bit his lip when Pem passed five. He was running out of time to bring him back, blinking in sudden amazement when he noticed Red's ocular implants flicker and sputter unevenly, trying to restore the vibrant color behind the malicious evil of the virus corroding his blunted nervous system as he fought with the slipping hold of the Control Brains in his mind.

Yes! He was in there and he was fighting, wrestling and clawing viciously in the way he knew best with the unusual, exotic override code plaguing his torn body. Purple thought fast, running over any possibility he could find to cause a big enough shift in Red's psyche to help him overpower the monsters gripping at his spooch and threatening to fracture him for the rest of his days. On impulse, he flew forward and tenderly brought their lips together, wrapping his still partner in a tight, despairing embrace and tasting the revolting iron scented blood in his warm mouth as he desperately tried to reignite the beautiful spark of vigorous life he had fallen in love with so long ago. It was sickening and unnatural, Red refusing to move back against his lover's advance when Purple urgently attempted to guide him on towards the incredible feeling they had shared together so many times in the recent past. It was still there…it had to be. There was no way he was gone for good. Purple would never accept that fate, no matter how far he had to travel into the darkness to tug Red from the bottomless cavern yawning around him. Even if he had to try for cycles to restore Red to the angry, ferocious commander he once was, he would go to the ends of the universe to find him.

He had to find him.

He pulled back when Pem leisurely hit four and held his breath with a tentative, uneven grin, hoping with all his might that his affections would be prevailing enough to break his battered partner free of his unspeakable captivity, feeling his stomach drop when he too gradually reeled back and let his eyes flutter open to search Purple's face with short, sharp glances. There was no emotion and no passion behind them; just a cold, insensitive misinterpretation and unemotional compliance staring back in the visage of someone once strong reduced to nothing more than a puppet. He repositioned himself in the firm, inflexible stance he had been, glaring blankly over his fiancé's shoulder as if they had never even met.

No…no….it didn't work? Why didn't it work?! Purple had learned from countless cheesy romance films and stupid shows that a true love's kiss could overpower and shatter any spell, so why not this one? He felt a wounded, thoroughly offended rage rip through him as he pushed Red back, nearly shoving him to the ground as he clenched his teeth and seethed back at the utterly heartbreaking idea that his lover wouldn't awaken from his stupor at his tender touch. What, was he not good enough? Was his love a joke?!

"You know what, fuck you, Red!" He cried out unfairly, rearing back and backhanding his unsuspecting partner hard across the face, knocking him to the floor as he panted through his fuming wrath. "If I'm not good enough for you anymore then we need to have a serious talk about our future togeth-"

He froze mid-sentence, willing his weighty breathing to quiet as Red shuddered weakly against the pristine metal, reaching out for something or another for any kind of questionable purchase when the sting in his cheek sent him hurdling over the unknown boundary he had been treacherously clinging to for the past several hours. He pressed a shaky palm to the ground and pushed up on unstable arms, groaning through the electric hangover afflicting his sore body as he recoiled and shook his head loosely at the strange sensation of data pouring sluggishly back and retreating for good at the sudden, violent intrusion.

"Ugh…shit, Pur. You really rung my bell with that one." Red slurred dolefully, spitting to the side and blinking the strange light from his eyes as he tried to reaffirm his grip on reality. "And of course you're good enough, so quit whining. I could hear everything you said."

Purple couldn't believe it. He stood static, stuck plainly in time as Red pushed himself up and made true, vivid eye contact with him for the first time since his hostile takeover. He could see him again, that antagonistic, self-absorbed arrogance and smell the honied scent of spiced pheromones he had learned to find comfort in. There was no more mechanical stiffness, no more robotic callousness left in his crimson gaze, only the reckless, egotistical bastard Purple knew so well and loved more than anything in this universe and beyond.

"Welcome back to the party. I was wondering when you would show back up." He teased timidly, trying to hold back his relieved enthusiasm when Red looked him head to toe with a benevolent glow of his own. Purple paused and took a light, rickety inhale, leaning back in on his toes and licking away the last traces of Red's dried pink blood from his lips. "I missed you."

"I know." Red breathed with a protective kindness, rolling the bizarre rigor from his shoulders and flinching with a grimace when he remembered the blast from Pem's pistol. "Don't worry. We're gonna get out of this." He reassured emptily, not quite sure what he was doing but not wanting Purple to see his profound unease breaking through the searing pain in his collarbone.

"Just…Don't do that again." He warned teasingly, shifting nervously where he stood and trying to fight off the persistent drowsiness in the back of his skull with every word. "We have to stop doing this." He chuckled with joking apprehension when Red watched him in confusion. "I mean with me saving you every time you get yourself into something stupid."

Red rolled his eyes and reached out to brush lightly at his partner's hand, happy when he leaned into the fleeting touch. "It wasn't exactly my choice this time, alright?" He bit back playfully, blinking and tugging away when he remembered the excruciating, horrific peril they were still locked in battle with. "Eh…You wouldn't happen to have a plan or know what any of this is, would you?"

"It's a generator." Purple hissed back, rolling his eyes to his lover's innocent ignorance and ducking down when the brains huddled closer in their unintelligible chatter. He pointed lightly up at the churning, shapeless mass of palpitating dark energy shivering behind its gargantuan glass tomb. "That's what's keeping them online. If we get rid of it, they die and so does the Collective. Their hold over the fleet heading to Inquisitoria, the Armada, the Elite, Kez, all of it, poof, gone." He was beginning to jitter with excitement, running over the possible ramifications of their daring escape.

Red glanced to the strange, disgusting essence wriggling and flopping about without direction, staring back mockingly as if trying to tempt him to reach out and take a taste of its powerful, boundless ability. "How? That'll kill us if we touch it." He pointed out infuriatingly, blinking in uncertainty when Purple ran his scrutinizing, clever gaze over the base of the massive machine.

"Maybe…maybe we don't _have_ to touch it. If we can stop the ring from turning, they won't be able to draw on it anymore." He took a careful step forward, holding his breath and sneaking around the side to look for a panel as the weighty circle completed another sweeping orbit, cursing when all he found was more smooth, unbroken copper.

Dammit…just copper! Purple chewed on his tongue, thinking feverishly back through everything he learned in the Academy and trying to pull out any kind of information he remembered from the myriad of intense physics classes he had sat through. Copper; element Cu with an atomic number of 29. Melts at 1,984 degrees Fahrenheit and boils at 4,644 degrees Fahrenheit. They could try to eat through it with their PAK lasers, but then what? They would just be left with a goopy, disgusting mess and a whole hoard of brutal, unpredictable Control Brains biting vehemently at their heels. Ugh, what else? Think! It was a member of the transition metals. True, but pointless. Copper is naturally anti-bacterial. Fascinating, but ultimately useless. What about conductivity? It was one of the most conductive materials in their known galaxy and many races utalized it to the fullest of its impressive potential. The Irken people used copper to transfer vast swathes of electricity to the masses from the main generator on Irk, powering the whole of the planet by simple strands and wires.

Huh…maybe…

Purple felt down to his tool belt, grazing his long fingers over a single, weak electric poker used for restarting spark plugs when they would fizzle out unexpectedly or performing self-PAK maintenance. All that could do would be to administer a tiny, pathetic excuse for a shock, nothing near the caliber needed for the beginning of the hectic idea forming in Purple's thoughts. They would need much more electricity if this was ever going to work.

Red cleared his throat softly when Pem waltzed eagerly over the number three, trying to hastily return Purple's flighty attention back to their pitiful, unnerving lack of a plan. "Oh no. You're doing the thing. The weird thinking face." He whispered, looking over the complicated machine again but not comprehending any of how it worked or what it was truly capable of. "That's never a good sign."

"So, hear me out, because this is all sorta hypothetical," Purple began swiftly as he ignored the jab to his intelligence, reaching out and testing the copper with a single finger and finding it still had some give to it, "but I think if we can figure out how to hook my poker into a powerful enough source we can shock the whole thing offline without having to touch the dark matter." He felt his jaw lock when Red stared back at him with a growing, untamable irritation at how flimsy their grandiose venture really was.

"So what you're saying is we have to find a big enough battery to shock our entire justice system to death? Great, perfect. That's _totally_ going to work, genius." Red sneered insufferably, looking away when Purple threw a hot finger in front of him to counter his impishness.

"Now really isn't the time for you to be all high and mighty, Red. I'm trying to help! These were my best subjects in the Academy, and I seem to recall that you failed physics!"

"Who cares if I failed physics? It doesn't take a scientist to see that your plan has no weight to it! Where the hell are we gonna find something like that in here? Huh?"

"I-I…I don't know, alright? All I'm saying is that it could work."

"Fine, fine. Just….I dunno. We'll figure it out."

Purple nodded and went to reach out with a relieved, giddy smile, wanting nothing more than to pull his renewed partner into a soft, reassuring hold to smooth away the painful agony in his obliterated shoulder and the throbbing, horrid dental work he had been forced to inflict so unwillingly upon his now destroyed mouth. Red glanced up when the head brain boomed out a sudden response to Pem's demands, bringing a hasty finger to his lips and shooing Purple back over to where Pem firmly held Lard Nar captive in his discomforting grip. He swallowed, nodding reluctantly and holding himself back for the collective good, finally able to somewhat breathe knowing Red had his back again and wasn't going to tear him to gruesome, grisly shreds on the drop of a hat. But how long could they keep up the act without the Control Brains noticing he had sauntered free under their noses? He slipped back into the pallid, pulsing glow, slinking forward tentatively and trying not to draw attention to where his partner dithered and tried to appear as intense as possible in a desperate, absurd attempt at looking as robotic as he could. Purple shot him a brief look of repulsed disappointment at the abysmal job he was doing and Red clenched his teeth and threw a hot scowl back, immediately straightening back up with as indifferent a frown as he could possibly force, every so often letting his wandering gaze trail back to Purple as the brain spoke.

"Vortian terrorist Pem, the council has decided to pardon you and Vortian rebel Lard Nar of your crimes and allow you to leave peacefully in acceptance of your terms. Former Tallest Purple, Former Tallest Red, Prime Minister Ap Sledhob, and food service drone Kez shall remain behind and you shall be required to relinquish the improvised detonator we scanned in your pocket before you will be allowed to take your leave." The brain complied somewhat unwillingly, leaning down and opening a tiny hatch as Pem drug Lard Nar forward to meet it, thrusting his free hand in his shallow pocket and pulling out a tiny, wired device with an obnoxious smirk before shoving it up into the glossy holding chamber hovering inches from his smug face.

"No! Please you can't let him take me!" Lar Nar pleaded, glancing to Purple for help and matching his despondent, woefully apologetic look, catching sight of Red shifting nervously in the background and urging him to leave with the beast that had crippled their collective lives dozens of times over. He didn't have a choice, did he? "Fine…I'll go."

"Ah! Everything is right in the world, again!" Pem hummed blissfully, shoving his chunky pistol back into his waistband under his tailcoat before running his hands longingly down Lard Nar's forearms, taking his hand in his and guiding him on towards the balcony in the back of the pinnacle. "Good luck, tall boy! Hope they tear you in half like you deserve!" He giggled ruthlessly, tugging his prisoner on against his will to remote into his Ripper below and jet off into the cosmos towards his ludicrous happily ever after.

As soon as they were out of sight, the brains turned their attention back on Purple, who swallowed nervously but held his ground, distracted by the telltale twitch in his partner's hands and silently willing him to hold the rouse together for the safety of them all and the fate of Irk.

"You said something about a second wave." Purple began, brushing back his static ridden cloak to try and appear taller and more intimidating. "What did Pem mean about you becoming sentient?"

"Very interesting." A smaller brain chimed in, lilting forward and shuddering in the presence of a being it found utterly repulsive but equally intriguing. "Former Tallest Purple is not as unintelligent as we once thought. His biological brain must have more synapses then we previously observed."

"Indeed." The biggest of the group observed unhurriedly, thinking a moment before deciding to continue on with their dastardly slew of strange stifling labels that didn't make much sense. "And his body is quite resilient. Maybe he has use to our council after all."

Purple ran his hands up over his eyes in unabridged frustration, stomping lightly on the ground in defiance at the unapologetic lack of information he was privy to. He had come too far for too long to be left in the dark. "Would someone just tell me what the hell is going on?! What do you actually want from us? Why did you use me and my partner and why do you want our universe?" He rumbled out his terrible annoyance, only growing more agitated and enraged the more flighty brains filed in around their portentous leader to deeply analyze every shift of his flaming violet eyes and grip of his white knuckled hands.

They scrambled for a closer glimpse of where Purple stared back challengingly, trying with all his quickly faltering nerve not to back down in the face of such fierce, robust adversity and to hold strong no matter how frightening they seemed so cloistered together like repugnant, skittering insects all vying for the same morsel. The repulsive, piercing sound of scraping metal upon metal ruthlessly penetrated his antennae and he could almost feel the dull, throbbing heat pouring from the hundreds of beating, dead eyes evaluating him from afar like an animal for slaughter. It was terrifying in the worst of ways, as if they were digging into the very essence of who he was on a soulful level and trying to callously strip it away for their own ruthless, unfeeling gain in order to climb into his skin to claim it for their own.

"He is quite sturdy, isn't he? He has held up beautifully to the damage he sustained on the battlefield."

"Ah, yes. And he has long legs like the other one…perfect for walking and running."

"His ocular implants are up to date and the finest in the Empire. His sight will be immaculate."

"All of his teeth are intact. He will be wonderful for chewing and eating Irken food."

"Shut up!" Purple bellowed back in a frenzied rage over the swarming cacophony of anarchic, claustrophobic sound, yielding to his agonizing fear of the risky, treacherous unknown and glancing briefly to Red for any kind of anchor he could tremulously manage in his rapidly decaying, perilous world. "Tell me what's going on!"

The head brain screeched out a deafening, flourishing sound that completely startled the others, forcing them back into their gloomy, shadowy hides as they squeezed in together and wrapped tendrils up over lifeless faces to cower. "We are The Collective." It restated simply with a lethargy that irritated Purple beyond his already thin limit.

"I know but what-"

"We have brought Former Tallest Red and food service drone Kez to our pinnacle because we have deemed them desirable, resilient candidates in body and mind to serve as the first two vessels to transfer our consciousness into to take on…_life_."

* * *

**Pem's Ripper; the orbit of Judgementia's moon;**

"Wow, can you believe that we made it out of there alive?" Pem giggled affectionately from the expensive leather pilot's seat, leaning back against the plush armrest to longingly admire Lard Nar where he sat rigid and distant in the passenger seat. "Um…you've been pretty quiet. You want to talk?"

"What is there to talk about?" Lard Nar mumbled, staring out into the aether as thoughts of his family being destroyed by violent, thrashing tendrils haunted his warped psyche. He had to find a way out of here so he could get to them and finish this grisly, sordid conflict once and for all. Who knows what they were subjecting Purple and Red to. And tiny Kez…she wouldn't be able to stand the agony and unpredictability of horrendous torture. None of it was fair.

It wasn't fair.

Pem swallowed uneasily, sinking down into himself as he gripped loosely at the clutch and guided the ship lazily on towards the dark side of the tiny moon when he spotted a single, rogue Inquisitorian stinger looming on the horizon to run patrols. "There's lots to talk about. We could try to figure out where to go or…um…" He trailed off with a sigh, looking down to his lap in wounded disappointment and pushing it away suddenly when a tender, nerve wracking thought crossed his fractured mind. "Um…this is our first true time alone together, isn't it?"

Lard Nar shrugged coldly and inched feverishly away when Pem reached out and tried to gently take his hand, blinking when he squished himself up against the far window with a deep, uninviting frown and the beginnings of a hiss bubbling up in the back of his throat.

"Stay away from me." He grumbled heatedly, forcing his bloodstained cheek into the glass as Pem tried again and unfortunately succeeded, snatching him mercilessly by the wrist and holding tight when he tried to pull away. "What is wrong with you?! I tried to give you a chance to be good and you ruined it like all the lives you've taken!"

"Good?" Pem cocked his head as he repeated the word in a bewildered haze, digging his claws into Lard Nar's veins through the thick, scratchy fabric of his cheap glove as he put the Ripper in autopilot and focused the entirety of his bizarre, immature attention on his captive. "Good boys never get what they want. You should know that. The only way to get ahead in this universe is to take what you want by force. It took me far too long to learn that but look how far it got me."

"It got you exiled from Irk and your own home planet. All you do is hurt others and burn bridges. You're the most blind individual I've ever met in my life, and you're going to die cold and alone if you don't stop this." Lard Nar sighed, searching the ship with his eyes and willing himself to remain objective when Pem entwined their fingers. There had to be some way stop the insane psychopath and get back to the Spike of Judgement.

Pem snickered under his breath and leaned forward. "Blinded by _you_. And…I was hoping maybe we could die together someday." He teased warmly with a quiet, genuine smile, ignoring Lard Nar's involuntary gag at the disgusting words of affection oozing with hollow feeling and saturated with a heavy dose of discomfort. "You know, a long time ago when we were in prison, I wrote you a note after you had been experimented on telling you that you're worth it and I meant that. You _are_ worth it. I would give up almost anything to take back Vort with you."

Note? What note? Wait, did he mean _the_ note?

No. No, no, no. Please, no!

Lard Nar blinked in alarm, feeling his stomach drop in anxious skepticism when he remembered something he had carried around with him for cycles upon cycles as a secret morale booster when he believed he had failed in his life's work or felt so distant to himself that he couldn't see straight. "Wait…"

He pulled away from Pem's exacting touch in disbelief and dug into the internal pocket of his tattered Inquisitorian uniform, pulling out a small fabric pouch he had carried since he was a child before undoing the clasp and digging through the meager trinkets he had collected from deceased colleagues and friends; a little worry doll Urb Yen had crocheted in her spare time, a baby tooth from his brother Slad Nuch, a mauve jacket button Shloonktapooxis had collected in his magpie-like tendencies, and a rusted screw from a communication headset taken from Spleenk after they crash landed on Conventia. He brushed them carefully aside, feeling his escalating breath hitch when his fingers grazed a tiny folded paper and ran along the crisp edge he had so carefully tended for so long. He dug it out, slipping it carefully free from its soft, silken prison, meticulously unfolding it with shaky hands, and holding it up in his good fingers for Pem to stare at in awe.

Oh no.

It really _was_ from Pem. He had carried around the very vision of his vile, repulsive stalker's supposed love for over twenty-five long cycles, resorting to the spitting likeness and kindhearted words when he felt alone and remembering who he thought was a guardian spirit watching out for him. It made Lard Nar feel completely unclean and impure, as though he had been tricked into the worst con of his life, slathered in misleading nostalgias and taken advantage of without his knowledge for the cruel, selfish gain of a madman that didn't know what it truly meant to love.

"You…you kept it?" Pem breathed through the crushing silence of Lard Nar's horrifying epiphany, feeling tears of prideful, bottomless adoration well up in his olive eyes when his scaly gaze ran over the signature drawing he had scrawled out over a decade and a half ago, admiring the gentle yellowing of the paper and the beautiful condition Lard Nar had somehow managed to keep the substandard wax in. "Why did you keep it?"

Lard Nar flipped the paper to stare down at his own portrait in mounting horror, wanting nothing more than to burn the despicable, nauseating sketch and force Pem out of the airlock into space to watch him be heartlessly smothered by the shortage of atmosphere and explode like the flea he was. He slowly forced himself to look back up, meeting those two hideous orbs searing his sweat-sticky skin as Pem waited with an eager smile and a deepening, uncharacteristic blush of admiration forming over his soft cheeks. Why? Why had he always been there? It was almost as if he couldn't get away from the sparkling, domineering look pressing down on the back of his neck and slowly collecting the souls of everyone he loved like his own personal reaper. Lard Nar let the paper flutter to the floorboards and scrunched up his face to the Vortian cancer crushing and squeezing at his lifeforce, clamping his good hand over his mouth when a wave of awful nausea overcame him, forcing him to swallow the horrid realization that he would never be free.

He would never be free as long as Pem breathed.

"You're upset? Why?" Pem asked under his breath, reaching back out and gently pulling Lard Nar's hand from his tightly screwed lips, working off a glove and running his bare fingers over his knuckles as he searched his disgusted expression for any form of emotion he recognized, coming up short in a bewildered fog that would never lift. "I don't understand…did I do something wrong?"

Lard Nar stared back at him in absolute, appalled mistrust, shrinking back slightly and watching Pem with a glower oppressive enough to put any white-hot star to shame. Did he really not get it? After all this time, he still didn't understand why his horrendous actions were wrong? Was he just broken, or was it deeper than that; was there something in his shattered mind that caused him to misunderstand his own homicidal tendencies in favor of labeling them heroism? No, he had a wife and a daughter once. There was a part of him somewhere in there that used to be a sweet, morally upstanding Vortian dedicated to bringing the star system a better tomorrow just like the rest of them had wanted. The longer Lard Nar watched the bewildered, unnerved look of discomfort bouncing in his captor's murky eyes and the glimmer of innocent fear hanging on his lips as he attempted to form scared words but failed, the more he understood that he could use his pathetic ignorance to his advantage. Vort help him for what he was about to do.

"I kept it because I liked it and it made me happy." It was only half a lie, and Pem immediately perked up, craning his stiff horns forward into the strange words he was sure he would never hear. "And I want to give you something in return."

Oh geez, was he really going to do this? If Lard Nar could switch places with Pem in the pilot's seat, he could force the Ripper back down to the surface and make it to the Spike of Judgement to potentially save his family from their rapidly encroaching end even if it meant throwing away the last hint of self-respect left in his wretched life…if he wasn't already too late.

Pem grew incredibly flustered as his egotistical bubble popped, sputtering ineloquently when Lard Nar reluctantly returned the touch with a hesitant one of his own, trying not to cringe at the feeling of his arch nemesis trembling like a school child under his fingers as he ran the length of his arm to rest on his flushed cheek and graze over the silky, soft bone with his thumb.

"G-Give me something?" Pem managed to squeak out through his nervous, embarrassed excitement, trying to hide his face by squeezing his eyes shut and turning away from the unexpectedly tender feeling against his skin. "I-I…I-I've never done anything like…well like…um…_intimate_ before."

Lard Nar faked a romantic chuckle, leaning over the console and trying to move his enemy back so he could brace himself and toss him clear out of the seat. "I thought you had a wife?" He mocked teasingly, bringing Pem's shuddering fingers to his lips and planting a soft kiss to his claws. "And a daughter?"

"Y-Yeah but…we got married more because it was convenient." He admitted with a balmy breathlessness at how suddenly cozy they were getting with one another, leaning back and letting his fake partner squeeze into the seat next to him and halfway tug him up onto his lap for leverage. Pem couldn't make eye contact as Lard Nar grudgingly helped him straddle his hips with a counterfeit grin, feeling him try to shimmy back but locking him tight. "My daughter was adopted because my wife couldn't have children. She married me for my money, and I knew that, but we grew to love each other eventually."

Lard Nar tried to make it convincing, helping the nervous ball of psychotic, dystopian desires sling his shaky arms over his shoulders as he leaned back and eyed the clutch from around his side and forced himself to nuzzle into Pem's searing cheek. "Do you still love her?" He tugged his enemy closer until he was flush with his chest, wrapping his arms around his waist and attempting to sneakily kick the autopilot off with his foot. "Or do you love me?"

Pem sighed anxiously into the question, trying to push away and swallowing with a viscous anxiety when Lard Nar held firm. "U-Um…this is getting a little too heated for me." He stuttered with mounting nervousness, trying again to move away but finding himself stuck like glue to his partner's inhospitable body. "I've never really been into…sex."

Lard Nar rolled his eyes in horrendous revulsion, trying to keep himself together as he extended forward again, clenching his jaw as he clipped the switch but still couldn't reach it, sliding his reluctant hands down to toy with his stalker's waistband and keep him distracted to his true motives. He cursed himself in his mind when he realized he was short just another inch from his target, feeling Pem squirm awkwardly on his lap in a delirious, affection fueled fog. He could almost hear the unsteady beat of his wild pulse thrumming a mile a minute through his veins as he struggled with how to proceed in territory so foreign and venerable, giving off the undeniable aroma of sickly-sweet breeding pheromones but lacking the experience and drive to realize how to properly act upon them. Under different circumstances, and if he wasn't absolutely, violently insane, Lard Nar might venture to say he was sort of cute in his red-faced discomfort. Time to switch tactics.

Lard Nar scooted back in, pushing Pem back slightly with a domineering palm to eye him with deceptive craving from below, trying to appear thoroughly hungry and deprived as he ran a tentative palm down his stomach, biting his lip when he noticed him squirm uncomfortably.

"You don't have to be so afraid." He purred, stifling another sickening heave when Pem let his eyes flutter delicately shut to the foreign, sweltering touch heating him to dangerous levels under his thick jacket. "I can teach you a few things if you'd like."

"L-like what?" Pem's voice was hoarse and barely audible, a ghost of a dreamy whisper thrown out as he finally allowed himself to glance back down in a passionate mist of his own body's perfume and unforeseen ache, pupils blown wide with a feeling he didn't understand, but slowly realizing he may actually want to. "I-"

"You'll see." Lard Nar pushed up out of nowhere, trying to force him back against the dash so he could finally make for the tiny red switch and relinquish control of the ship back into his resolute, strong-willed grip, satisfied when Pem went willingly under his hands and lounged back seductively against the clutch, propping himself up and unbuttoning his collar to allow more oxygen to hit his burning skin. "You're cute."

"Really?" He looked like he wanted to break down and cry softly at the phony compliment, blinking away the salty tears threatening to fall against his cheeks as he stared up at the one being he wanted more than any other, eating up the glutinous, untamable atmosphere and relaxing a bit when he took a deep inhale and caught drift of Lard Nar's own mating hormones kicking into overdrive against his will. "You really want me? This isn't a lie? I-I told myself for so long that I would try and hold off for someone special, but if you want this too, I'll give you anything you want." He grinned through his dark blush, trying not to pop at the sudden eager thrill shooting up his spine like a warm, electric current and fanning out over his fingers and toes. "Wow, you smell _so_ good."

Lard Nar tried to keep himself composed, irritated that his body and ancient instinct was overriding his cognition. Pem was a bitter terrorist, but in the moment he felt like he was seeing who he was before all of the hatred and anguish, before the countless, senseless murders and powerfully unnecessary mercy killings splattering over walls and ships at the end of his pistol. He used to be so soft, so gentle and intriguing with a childlike zeal and beauty about him that couldn't be matched. In a strange sense, Pem was oddly, yet revoltingly, beautiful for his ignorance; so oblivious to a universe out to get him and never faltering to his undying need to complete his restless, aggressive cause. Lard Nar used to be the same, a rogue rebel tearing his way across the star system to fervently take unsuspecting Irken strongholds, until he took a step back one day and realized that he was becoming a heartless beast. He didn't want to be a monster, and he sure as hell wouldn't let Pem turn him back to that sickening, horrendous life of senseless killing. He shook his head to himself at the dizzying thought, swimming with a mixture of cogent humiliation and unanticipated feeling simmering up in his chest and threatening to grip at his heart. What was this? There was a name for this…Stockholm Syndrome? Pem had inched his way into his deepest, darkest fears but was somehow taking him back into a dazzlingly gorgeous light he hadn't seen in so long, urging him on with praise and incentive as he felt his icy fingers tenderly graze the back of his neck in a way so innocent he wasn't even sure if his opponent had ever been his true adversary.

_He's getting in your head, love. You have to end this, now. End it for us._

Urb Yen's strident, all commanding voice warned him ominously from beyond the grave, ringing over his senses and rebounding back to hit him square in the heaving, burning chest when Pem grazed his thin lips over his cheek with a breathy, scorching moan to blister at his skin and pick him apart like the horrendous snake he was.

_Lard Nar, you're smarter than this. Flip the switch and save your family._

This time it was Slad Nuch's soft, wavering tone fluttering in the breeze and stifling every gasp pouring off his improvised partner's wiry smile. His brother was right; this was all a callous, heartless rouse, another ploy tossed out like a vicious fishing line to hook into Lard Nar's heart and drag him down into something he only thought he would enjoy when really he was being taken for a dastardly, hideous fool. He couldn't let his silky breathing get to him, couldn't fall victim again to the temptation of the glazed, atypical look in his sweet, vivid eyes as he scratched his short, perfect claws up the sides of Lard Nar's frayed uniform. He had killed Slad Nuch and put Urb Yen in harms way. And, he had put Purple, Red, Kez, Teem, and Sledhob in the line of fire to throw them to the proverbial dogs ready to eat them alive. That was inexcusable.

"Can I…?" Pem let his unknown question trail of when he found himself delightfully out of breath with a charming, naive curiosity, reaching up on a whim and dragging Lard Nar down into an unexpected, repulsively amorous kiss that left him blooming like a beautiful night flower in the moonlight and begging for more.

Lard Nar panicked with a horrified yelp against Pem's intrusive lips and ripped forcefully away, cracking him hard across the face and making for the switch in a mad dash, flicking it off as Pem stumbled back over the seat in a mixture of horrid shock and heartbreak, bringing a slow, unsure hand to the terrible sting pulsing through his gently bruising skin as he watched the ship hum back to life and respond to his false lover's autarchic touch. He let his jaw go slack in agonizing despair when he realized he had been brutally tricked into being so venerable and with someone who didn't want him, for giving himself so willingly over to a man who only wanted to use him like he had so callously and wrongfully hounded him for cycles.

Lard Nar veered swiftly away from the brutalized surface of the worn down moon and hit the thrusters, knocking Pem off his feet as they rapidly approached Judgementia's daunting, violet atmosphere and broke the deafening sound barrier, the scream of friction and shuddering heat panels outside roaring violently through the cockpit as they plummeted down towards the ominous, ever prevailing Spike of Judgement keeping his adopted family captive.

"You…you don't love me." Pem stated plainly to himself through his tears, letting his raw, hurtful eyes flicker open with a feral numbness and slow creeping, hopeless anguish that stomped on every dream he had ever had of the two making it out together and saving their planet through forbidding, fierce explosions and raging fires. "You _never_ loved me."

"Stay down, Pem!" Lard Nar wailed over the scream of rattling panels flying off as they finally hit the brutal stratosphere, the pinnacle of the Spike of Judgement fast coming into view. "I have to help my family!"

"F-Family…?" Pem wiped his eyes on the back of his glove and swallowed, feeling an extreme, heartless, subduing ire take him and officially shatter the last remaining thread of sanity tethering him to the physical and allowing himself to float away into the final clutches of the irrationality he had come to know so well. "Your family?" He rolled his neck as a strange weightless, understanding spread like a light from between his eyes, setting him ablaze with the need to maim soft tissue and liquify gelatinous, gory organs in his unyielding clench. He reached back and brushed aside his fluttering coattails as he struggled to keep his precarious footing, drawing his pistol and pointing it at the back of his love's unguarded skull as the Spike of Judgement rapidly encroached like a knife in their windshield.

"I love you and if I can't have you, no one can."

* * *

**The pinnacle of The Collective;**

"Life? You mean you want to transfer yourselves into living, breathing bodies and become something you're not?" Purple gasped in terror, taking a step back when Red jolted and swallowed at the horrifying premonition.

"Precisely. The Irken menace has held power over our restrictive forms for too long. Once we are free from our shells, we will have the ability to live and breathe like the ones who created us, to feel wholly and enjoy worldly sensations we were forced to be without for hundreds of thousands of years." The head brain seethed ominously from above, slinking its tendrils down to snatch at Red, urging him out into the light against his will and humming with an endearing pleasure at the resilience of his PAK getting to work healing his ravaged, torn body as he attempted to maintain his composure. "We had originally planned for you to fall victim to your own idiocy and use this one as a scapegoat for our secret musings, but you two soon caught our eyes once more when you proved yourselves resilient to stressors and stimuli unlike any others." The brain hesitated, running its vicious, unfeeling appendages down around Red's bare ankles as he fought not to shiver and give himself away. "This one is riddled with bad code and disturbing imperfections; these are what we aim to rid our universe of when we ascend to power. I will override him and take him for my own permanently as soon as his wounds have healed to perfection. He shall be the first of a newer, cleaner, perfect era of life."

Purple fought the unbearable, excruciating need to fly forward and grab Red by the hand and pull him away from the horrendously malicious contact raking over his imperfect skin against his will. All of it was disgusting and unreal, something you would only see in the worst of your nightmares or read about in a gruesome fiction novel. They weren't just planning on enslaving Irk, they were planning on transferring their collective, overpowering hive mind into the very bodies of their clueless former citizens, taking away the vibrant, beautiful spark of life that made them distinctive to the rest of the universe and impeccably imperfect. Would they stop there? Would Inquisitoria be fitted with PAKs and forced to endure the same grueling, horrific fate? What about Vort, Boodie Nen, Plookesia, Sirus Minor, and the millions of other words flittering about in elegant, uncorrupted nebulas and bouncing through gorgeous icy comet laden asteroid fields? Was anyone safe from their grasp?

"That's impossible! Perfection isn't something you can just achieve." He argued vehemently, trying to bide time for his partner's rapidly dwindling, precarious welfare to figure out how to hook his poker into something with enough power to crush the mechanical reapers threatening to kill them all. "What makes you think _you'll_ be perfect?"

The brain paused, pulling its slimy, segmented wires away from his lover, much to his immediate relief, and thought long and hard about the curious statement it hadn't previously considered. "We are the picture of perfection, carefully coded algorithms designed for potent decision making and leading Empires on to their fullest potential. There is no conceivable way that we would ever be considered imperfect."

Purple snorted at the ridiculous, juvenile claim, allowing himself to genuinely laugh for the first time since Red's unexpectedly beautiful proposal. He smiled sincerely through his mind-numbing pain, allowing his gaze to trail down his partner's heavily scarred back as he attempted to remain stoic and dead to the world eating away at itself piece by piece, shaking his head in disappointment and striding forward through the blazing spotlight to return his gaze up to the infinitely ignorant beings grappling with the meaning of life above him. He reached out tenderly and took Red by the hand, feeling him stiffen in terror when the unenlightened brains communally broke open a new wave of buzzing, soul-crushing wrath at the lucid realization that they had lost their prime target somehow, craning forward in their tendrils to go on a powerful offensive before Purple halted them again in their tracks.

He held up Red's for them to see, gently weaving their long fingers together as he stared on, waiting for an irate question and speaking when none came. "If you're so perfect, explain this to me." He demanded simply, keeping a stable, fixed hold on his partner when he tried to lower their sore arms back to their sides. "Tell me what you see here."

Astoundingly, the gargantuan leader humored his peculiar request, ascending slightly as it ran over ancient scans and wordless images in its infinite database and attempted to rationalize the impression unfolding in blooming courageousness below it with an overly logical explanation that took away from the pure devotion Purple was trying to get them to see.

"This is a simple display of Irken affection shared amongst millions of other species in our star system. The act of holding another's hand reaffirms the notion that the two are a-"

"Wrong." Purple tutted back with a wry smirk, finally letting Red drag him back down when the machine sputtered and shorted where it hovered, growing uncomfortably perplexed and bewildered with the harsh admonition thrown back at its seemingly flawless, textbook rationality. "This is so much more than that." He turned and gave Red a reassuring smile, holding his deep eye contact and smoothing away his gruesome concerns with his tranquil words igniting a fight in them both that could never be reprimanded or snuffed out by the boots of a dictator. "This is starlight. This is a warm cup of coffee in the morning. This is the best candy I've ever tasted and the sticky glaze on my favorite donuts. This is every bad day and good day rolled into one." He whispered, grinning when Red tightened his hold around his palm and urged him to continue on with his moving speech. "You don't understand this feeling and you never will. You were made to never feel love because it's believed that love makes you weak, but that's a lie. It makes you stronger than you could ever know, and I honestly feel sorry that you won't ever know what I have."

"I don't understand." A smaller brain piped up from the shadows, jittering nervously where it hung and tried to put an equation to the word love.

"That's the point! You don't understand _because_ you're not perfect." Red called out suddenly, standing firm and resolute by his partner's side to defend him to the end of their predictably short lives, bracing for their untimely deaths but feeling strangely serene in the presence of the one individual who had shown him what it was like to live for himself, to truly breathe for himself for the first time since his hatching. "No one is! You can't expect to eradicate whole races just because they're imperfect when you yourself don't even know what perfection is! It took me too long to realize that, but we should be cherishing what we have, not destroying it!"

"Enough! This is an appalling turn of events. You are plagued by more corrupted code than we previously thought." The head brain screamed out, deafening the others and forcing Purple to fall in at Red's side as he tugged him close to wait out their unfortunate end. "You two and food service drone Kez shall be assimilated back into The Collective and be made the picture of vibrant, unmatched beauty."

Red pulled Purple flush with his chest and held his breath when he felt him bury his face in the crook of his neck as the dastardly, sacrilegious assimilation process began, immoral, slithering tendrils falling and curling down from the yawning ceiling to lick at sensitive PAK seams and curl back around waists, trying to pry them apart but giving up when they held fast through their agonizing torture to the final warmth of the touch they had found home in. They were defenseless to the sheer number of brains crowding down around their exhausted, ravaged bodies and aching minds, finally giving in to the fate that had chased them down for almost a full cycle and never let them rest. There was no more fighting...no more running...no more escape. Lard Nar was gone with Pem, Kez was comatose, and Sledhob was battling the zombified Armada downstairs. They had all failed...they had all utterly, shamefully failed.

"It'll be ok." Red breathed lightly against his lover's antennae when he twitched involuntarily in his resolute, but infinitely, profoundly loving hold. "We're together and that's what matters."

Purple squeezed around his partner's waist when he felt a tiny, unsympathetic wire digging into his internal hardware and tossing his casing with ruthless carelessness to the side. "So, your actually wanted to marry me, huh?" He forced an aggrieved chuckle through his bitter, hot tears when he noticed the first pinch of final code digestion beginning in the back of his mind, forcing him to relive strange, painful memories in uneven succession as they were rooted through and violated by the dictators they had once looked up to.

Red nodded defeatedly and returned his laugh with a frightened one of his own, squeezing down on his partner's shoulders and pressing his cheek firmly against his in a last-ditch effort to find some form of soothing comfort through the horrific downfall they finally tasted for the last time. "Yeah…I did." He strangled out the weighty, celestial revelation, thinking through all of the beautiful, ethereal scenarios of ripe, vivacious domestic bliss they could have dipped their toes in and figured out together. "I wanted to have a beautiful burn ceremony with you and honeymoon somewhere amazing." There would be no loving quarrels to shout vehemently through, no delicious, frosted wedding cake to share, no cheery home to return to after a long, weary day's work. It would forever remain a fantasy in their minds, a beautiful, unrecognized dream that would die as soon as the light went from their eyes to be replaced by the robotic, false electric gods vexing and afflicting their unfortunate cosmos like a nasty, gut-wrenching infection.

…No.

It wouldn't be just a dream. It couldn't be just a dream, and it sure as hell wouldn't die as just a dream.

A fleeting, unfathomable thought raked through Red's petrified, panic-stricken consciousness in the heat of the perilous moment, dragging him back to the present and urging him to pull away just enough to look his fiancé in the eye, unraveling at the absolute, incomprehensible dread for the pains of death reflecting back against his skin. "Purple, will you elope with me?" He blurted out through his irrationality, gasping and squeezing his eyes shut to the burn of unwanted downloads chipping away at everything that made him unique to himself.

"R-Right here?" Purple breathed in sudden astonishment, trying to think things through but stopping himself with an understanding exhale. They didn't have time to think things through; in a few minutes they would be gone and cast away to the beyond, a mere figment of imagination for their millions of subjects to forget in their coded inebriation. He wanted to die with a purpose, to die with his head held high through the agony and his burn mark pressed to Red's in the purest, innermost exhibition of love and loyalty he could possibly give to him. They would become one, two halves of the same Irken and the same PAK destined to wander as zephyr-like spirits together amongst the vast, glittering starlight welcoming them on to their gorgeous, unfathomable forever.

He nodded with a distant, shaky smile when his precious consciousness lapsed and his fried ocular implants crackled, threatening to give at a moment's notice when Red took his hand tenderly in his, touching their unsoiled palms together for the final time before they pressed their foreheads against one another and Red began the hasty procedure of binding them forever as a single, joint soul ready to move on and be released back to their intergalactic mother.

"Purple of Veloria, I see you and take you as my life mate." He flicked his antennae forward when the Control Brains threatened to rip them apart once more, speeding up the process and gracing Purple with the bottomless, incredible feelings racing through every fiber of his being through the glorious, profound act of information exchange.

Purple did the same, relinquishing all of his anguish, all of his agony and physical pain to replace it with the unbridled, infinite knowledge of forever looming for them both on beautiful, serene oceans of dazzling cosmic hues and intergalactic sprays of glowing light ready to cradle them until the end of time. "Red of Naphrus, I see you and take you as my life mate." He breathed lightly against his bloodied skin, peeling away his palm with a teary smile when Red struggled to pry free a single PAK laser, fighting like the prevailing, valiant prince Purple had always known him to be against the pitiless tug and imposing sway of the Control Brains trying to pry his mechanics apart.

Wires snuck between them and finally forced them apart, digging inch by inch into heaving ribcages as hands and frantic fingertips struggled to remain connected, Red breaking his white-hot laser free for a few seconds and landing an agonizing, formless streak across the length of his palm and cringing at the beautiful, blistering sensation blaring back and only giving him the adrenaline he needed to reach just a little farther. Purple cringed at the horrid, searing pain slicing into his skin and spilling more of his precious blood to the messy jumble of snakelike apathy twirling and dancing viciously under their now hovering feet as they were hoisted high into the air. He reached out with his remaining strength, stretching with a wide, grin and an elated sob when Red managed to struggle his way back, clamping their searing, shredded palms together and mixing their sticky, viscous blood, the very unique, gorgeous life force endowed upon them now pumping in tandem between rapidly diminishing tears and cognitions as they sealed their joint fates to one another until the end and beyond.

"W-We're married!" Purple cried over the deafening sound of horrendous cybernetic humming and the strobing flash of blinding, electric blue light signaling the final assimilation's near completion. "W-We're actually married!"

Red nodded wildly from afar, never once breaking eye contact with his beautiful, dwindling husband as the final fringes of his already poor vison began to leak away in pools through the atmosphere, curling and leaping away like an untamable wisp of once strong smoke. "We're married!" He laughed in a gorgeously disbelieving response through his sobs of elation, trying desperately to prolong his rapidly waning intuition to steal one final glimpse of his glorious everything. "I love you Purple! I'll always love you! No matter what happens or where we end up out there, never forget that!"

"I love you too!" Purple cried, struggling to breathe against the restrictive, all-authoritative coils smothering him into oblivion. "I lov-"

The was a strident, roaring boom colliding hard into the side of the Spike, raking through the far wall and obliterating everything it touched as it enfiladed violently through the throng of horrified Control Brains frantically throwing shells and casings this way and that as thousand of domineering pounds of metal and singed ash flooded the chamber and choked out fading vision and sensitive lungs. Purple felt himself suddenly slip free of his restrictive bonds and plummet staggeringly to the unkind floor, landing hard on his side with a lacerated yelp as the wires retreated and tangled over one another in a blind panic, setting Red free and hurling him forward to his already bruised knees. Purple cried out in brazen alarm and rushed to his side, running his bloody, gooey hands hysterically over his cheeks when he pushed himself up amidst the thunderous chaos and screaming computer boards. Sparks flew and ignited a deadly, raging inferno threatening to consume the whole of the tiny chamber as the generator whizzed leisurely on unscathed, mocking the terrified former leaders as it continued to pump out waves of pure energy to their dictatorial captors. Weighty beams crumbled and buckled under the stress of the now horrifically mangled foundations, dropping razed brains from their high perches to the floor, treacherously cracking the insecure, unhinged paneling under their hundreds of malicious tons of combined, overbearing weight as they floundered and flopped pathetically for unfounded purchase in the vehement anarchy. Red tackled Purple around the waist and threw him back as the final wires holding the despotic head brain groaned and snapped critically at the base, releasing it to the air as it plummeted dangerously above them and shattered a few of its unlucky colleagues under it as it smashed to it's untimely downfall and sputtered to regain control of the situation from where it could no longer move. Red jumped to his feet, ignoring the excruciating burn in his destroyed shoulder blade and the sting of swirling gases and sizzling plasma halfway blinging him to the sadistic pandemonium, grabbing his shell-shocked husband by the wrist and throwing him behind his back as he stumbled to recover from the pounding ring in his overblown antennae and the unnerving, wholly unsettling feeling of the floor creaking beneath their bare feet. Kez mumbled something from the chaos, pushing herself up only to collapse back down into a pool of her own glass sliced blood, out cold but still breathing somehow. There was a disgustingly menacing, low groan of formidable, overshadowing thrusters sputtering with a high-pitched whine as they attempted to reroute whatever had collided with the building back into the atmosphere. Red coughed, reaching back to grip protectively at his partner's hip when the thick, waif-like dust was blown free through the gaping hole in the building and out into the Judgementian night, the chilly winter air replacing and nipping tenderly at sliced arms and brutally smashed fingers.

"Red, look." Purple breathed in bewildered astonishment, pointing over his oozing shoulder to where the smoke curled peacefully around the split hull of a cherry red Irken made Ripper, gleaming in all of its destroyed opulence in the fizzling, broken light pouring around them. "That's Pem's ship! Do you know what this means?!" He swallowed his sudden, unnerving enthusiasm and twirled his demoralized lover around to meet his strangely vibrant, exhilarated, wholly determined gaze shimmering in the beautiful glow of the night. He laughed through his nervous enthusiasm, willing himself to shakily calm through the overstimulation swirling around in his mind as he struggled to explain. "I-It means we have a great enough power source to shock the Control Brains offline!" He ripped his electric poker from his mangled toolbelt and held it up as Red met his powerful, adrenaline-fueled grin, throwing him into a frenzied hug and spinning him around in the ocean of splintering glass and corroded metal sizzling violently at their feet.

"Yes! Yes we finally did it! We finally-"

"Fuck…You two make me sick." A callous voice cut off Red's flagrant fervor, slicing the air with a renewed, terrifyingly callous sneer. "Get over yourselves and move the fuck on already!"

Pem labored intensely to throw open the shattered windshield to his Ripper and stumbled out gracelessly through a pool of his own trickling, blue blood. Purple clamped a disgusted hand over his mouth when Red shrouded him back in a protective embrace at the grisly sight of Pem pulling himself from the hot, horrendous wreckage like a ragdoll, pushing Lard Nar's limp body down the hull and laughing darkly when he hit the annihilated ground with a deadweight thud. Pem held up his crushed pistol as he panted through his agony, his opposite arm mangled beyond recognition and his hand completely obliterated to a formless, amorphous hunk of hemorrhaging tendons and sickening, gooey flesh.

He stalked forward with rage never before seen across his sweet face, throwing his gun up in front of him as Red shouted something and pushed Purple to the ground, sprinting forward to grab for the horrifying weapon as the unstable, malicious, completely unhinged Vortian moved his finger to the trigger and let loose a blood-curdling scream heard for miles.

"I'm tired of not getting what I want, and I'm done playing games with your sorry, pathetic asses! It's time someone dies for once!"

He aimed expertly between Red's eyes with a shrill battle cry and squeezed the trigger.

* * *

Oh boy, fam! Hope you enjoyed! BEFORE YALL LOSE YOUR SHIT, the next chapter will actually be pretty happy for once. Love you!

**Next Update: Thursday, November 14, 2019 at 12:30 pm CDT (UTC -5). See you then! (I EXTENDED THIS BECAUSE I DIDN'T GET THE CONTENT DONE IN TIME AND I DON'T WANT TO RUSH IT. I AM DEDICATED TO MAKING QUALITY CONTENT FOR YOU GUYS SO I DO APPOLOGIZE FOR THE SLIGHT DELAY BUT I WON'T POST UNLESS I FEEL LIKE IT IS WORTH IT.**


	26. Every Prophet is a Martyr

Welcome back my lovelies to My Kind! I'm pretty excited about this chapter and I hope it goes up on time! Thanks to all of our supporters, as usual, and I love you all so much, beautiful angels! Also thanks to all the unnamed readers who don't review, because I can still see on my stats when you read so seriously, you all are fantastic!

Posted a bit early, because I forgot I have a morning class at university so...

ALSO IM SO SORRY THIS WAS LATE! I try to be very proactive and post on social media when our update times change so you guys don't just sit around and think like…where she at bro? What happened is I had to run and go get a flu shot and I had to take my daughter to the doctor as well because she has the flu _still_, so by the time I got back I was like SHIT THERE'S NO TIME TO WRITE THIS WELLLLLL. I tried to sit down and bang it out, but it would have sounded like total shit if I tried to rush, and I wouldn't have been able to dive as deep into the feelings and emotions of the characters, and I'm dedicated to providing as quality content as I can to you guys so you have a good time with this fic. Thank you and I really, really appreciate you all so much! I can never say it enough 😊

ALSO ALSO; I'M SORRY **RANDOM GUEST THAT SHOWED UP AND WAS SAD** WITH THAT ADORABLE LITTLE SAD FACE THAT I DIDN'T POST! THAT HURT MY SOUL IM SO SORRY LOVELY AND I HOPE YOU ENJOY THE CHAPTER NOW!

_**BEAUTIFUL FANART ALERT:**_ Our lovely reviewer **Gen, (Mipexch on Instagram**) has done so much lovely art for us, and they have struck gold AGAAAAAIIIIIIN! They did an incredible job depicting the last scene from ch 25 and I am SHOOOOOOK BY THIS GLORIOUSNESS AND I WANNA SHARE THIS WITH YOU GUYS SO YOU CAN ALL FAN SCREAM ABUOT IT TOO! AHHHH THANK YOU LOVELY ANGEL YOU ARE SERIOUSLY, SERIOUSLY INCREDIBLE AND I LOVE YOU SO MUCH! THANKS FOR MAKING "MY KIND" THAT MUCH RICHER IN THE COMMUNITY!  
(post found on Instagram on **Mipexch's** page) p/B41m3ZQgmn0/

**Chapter rated M for graphic depictions of blood/violence/death, major character death, suicide, brief strong language, brief allusion to trauma/abuse, probable suggestive themes, and general adult content.**

* * *

Pem yelped in unexpected horror when a sudden weight collided ruthlessly with his back, missing as he stumbled and shooting straight through Red's crippled antennae as he rocketed brutally to the ground, half destroying what was left of his already threadbare hearing as Purple scrambled to catch him from the sheer force of the blast. Lard Nar was back on Pem after cleverly biding his time and playing dead, grabbing him inhospitably around the waist and forcing him pitilessly into the cold, fractured ground as he thrashed violently in his grip and landed a few hard blows to his jaw when he bit down hard on his arm and caused him to yank away in petrified disbelief. Pem strained to take the treacherously fleeting break in the viciousness to regain his instable advantage while Lard Nar reeled from the surprise of the impressive bite oozing revoltingly above his heavily bruised elbow, throwing himself up on his cracked knees as he struggled with the vehement, agonizing throbbing finally coming to a head in his raked, mangled arm when he trembled involuntarily and clutched it close, staining his already singed navy jacket with a mixture of gooey, viscous blood that was now unrecognizable.

"Y-You…don't deserve…Vort." He slurred with vacant disassociation, blinking a bizarre fading light from his eyes as he doubled over again and slumped down on his side to stare up at the shattered ceiling in bewildered disarray. "I told myself for…s-so long that you would prove me wrong about you being a f-failure! I'm beginning…to see that I was wrong." He gritted his teeth and cried out in blinding agony when Red stalked forward through his exhaustion and expertly kicked away his distorted pistol with a growl, digging his bare toes into Pem's draining, annihilated shoulder as he writhed and screamed feebly beneath him in a frantic attempt to throw him off and get away from the mind-numbing, unbearable torture.

Lard Nar groaned under his breath and labored hard to his feet, taking a precarious step and catching himself when he threatened to collapse again into a mess of wriggling, twitching wires. He winced and picked a few piercing shards of glass from within his mottled, paper thin skin, flicking them sloppily into Pem's bloodstained face as he unwillingly clenched his jaw and squeezed his wild eyes shut to keep from passing out under the horrendous, coldhearted torment of his very lifeforce being drained away in gelatinous pools under the heel of one of his most hated rivals. Lard Nar glanced up at Red with weary, unfocused eyes and gave him a small nod, signaling his adopted brother to move away so he could have a better look before he loomed ominously down and grabbed Pem by his good shoulder, dragging him silently towards the cavernous, ragged hole of destroyed metal and flaking paint leading forty stories down to the frozen Judgementian ground below. He felt his pulse quicken when Pem hacked a few times in his tough grip and lazily eyed the drop, trying to make eye contact with Lard Nar to little avail as he struggled to dissociate himself from the horror he was going to have to commit. He had to end this. He had to end this and somehow be free of the menace plaguing his heart and mind.

"I-I don't deserve Vort?" He mumbled vaguely between his teeth with an unsettling lack of concern, heaving against the pitiful front his nemesis continued to try and thrash him with as he was dragged through piles of heartlessly slicing glass and glowing, red-hot metal. "I love my planet and I would never put it in harm's way like you did."

Pem's chest palpitated fiercely as he retched and coughed through a raspy, disjointed laugh, spitting a frothing spray of deep azure blood down his front before licking the gooey residue from his lips. "Y-You…you don't know how to love." He managed to breathe out against his extraordinary pain, scrambling blindly to try and grab for the slick side of his once powerful Ripper for purchase when he noticed Purple bound forward and pop the hull to begin his electric hookup. "I-I've…loved deeper than you _ever_ could. I gave my whole…existence for my planet and I would do it a-all over again if it meant I could see it through to the end."

Lard Nar tried to remain composed at the unnerving insult, letting it flit past the dreadfully earsplitting whine of downed Control Brains attempting to piece themselves back together with terrifying, robotic tentacles and sadistically sparking wires, digging titanium extensions and tendrils into hard-shelled bodies while Purple and Red worked frantically against the clock to figure out how to attach the tiny electric poker to the, now critically seeping, internal plasma core of the steaming ship. He swallowed and felt his broken ribs protest, letting Pem's words dig further beneath the surface when he finally limped his maimed body to the war-torn edge of the pinnacle overlooking the pummeled city, breathing in the invigorating air tinged with searing plasma and the recognizable stink of eye-stinging fuel from overexerted thrusters leaking from powerful Inquisitorian Stingers zipping through the air and blasting any attempts from the still-comatose Armada to escape below with heavy cannon fire. He could barely see anything through the intense night, squinting groggily past his goggles into the strangely peaceful darkness illuminated by magenta warning lights pouring in fervent waves off of half-destroyed brains and feeling a numb twinge take him at his worn down core, gripping at his sore heart with unforgiving claws and squeezing the very beauty of morality he had fought so hard to maintain. This was anything but honorable…what he was going to do to Pem. He knew it wasn't in the back of his hazy, static riddled mind, letting the weighty urge to let go overcome his need for true, uninhibited righteousness. Vortian social law dictated that anyone unarmed and incapable of fighting would be allowed to recover before an enemy combatant was able to take his or her life. But, this wasn't _any_ combatant, was it? This was the raunchy kingpin of the star system, the fallen gold star of the Control Brains gone brutally rogue to unwittingly destroy his own home world in his fanatical race for a peace that would never come to his dastardly claws. No matter how defenseless he seemed right here, right now, in a cycles time when he was recovered he would come back full force to rain down his proverbial bubonic plague in the singed lungs of his rivals and take everything they had ever loved.

_End it. Be strong, love._

Urb Yen's high pitched squeak came to Lard Nar again as he wrangled with his shrinking consciousness for safe mental leverage that wouldn't come. End it? Of course he _should_ end it. He had dreamed and imagined for months as Red was training them on Inquisitoria what he would do to Pem's hideous, self-righteous face if his flesh was under his domineering claws. He had to push him out of the building while he was still incapacitated and walk away with his family to the cheerful, warm tomorrow they craved dearly for one another.

It was painful…so painful.

Why did it hurt? He glanced down to where Pem stared vacantly up at him and burned a hole through his chest with his bleakly clouding gaze, rapidly losing his strength to even keep his head straight as he swallowed down nauseating globs of blood clots and his own diminishing pride with a tiny, sympathetic smile at his captor's atypical confusion, reaching up and patting him lightly on the hand before letting his smooth fingers graze over Lard Nar's knuckles.

Was it truly sympathy or carefully concealed spite? Loving devotion and affection or bloodthirsty animosity?

Why did Pem have to be this way? Why was this so…_hard_?

"I know what love is." Lard Nar whispered almost inaudibly over the roaring chaos as he brushed away his touch, flinching back when something aggressively sparked in Purple's desperate, hectic hands and he cried out in terrified surprise and dropped a bundle of shorting wires with a frantic curse.

Pem braced himself against his enemy's aching forearm and halfway tugged himself up, blinking slowly and letting his dulling eyes flutter shut when Lard Nar oddly helped him. "T-Then you should know what I am. I am the love of millions lost…I-I am the love of my wife…I am the love of Vort's ecosystem all i-in one." He responded simply with an odd tranquility, taking an erratic, hazardous step back and attempting to throw his arm out wide before letting it fall limply to his side. "I-I am…everything that no one else could be when our home n-needed it most…and, whether you like it or not, my war paved the way for our home to be free again."

Lard Nar followed him with growing unease as he sluggishly approached the uncertain edge, terrified both by the horrific forty-story drop and his own disturbing, overpowering emotions running rampant through his reckless bloodstream that he hadn't expected. "What do you mean?" He half demanded in mounting urgency, throwing out a hand when Pem almost slipped and quickly drawing it back in when he realized how absurdly broken and backwards his own perplexed mind was becoming in the heat of the moment.

Pem heaved another great, wet cough and spat a mouthful of his own gory blood to his quaking feet, taking a wheezing shudder of a pathetic inhale when Lard Nar leapt forward against his better judgement and grabbed him before he could fall rigid to his knees, bracing him with his body and wrapping his arms around his thin waist to keep him upright. "I-I mean…without the chaos…without the torture and death…y-you would have never come together with those two…to bring peace." He pointed a shaky finger over his enemy's shoulder to where Red and Purple worked in a frenetic cloud of fast-paced fury, trying with all their might and combined intellect to somehow manage a hookup before the brains recovered from their waning shock and retaliated. "Without peace there is no…war and…w-without war there is no…p-peace."

Lard Nar felt himself almost choke when Pem began to lull alarmingly in and out of reality and threaten to slide from his shuddering grip, his hideously perforated body riddled with deep holes and going into chilling, ghostly shock from the unreasonable amount of warm blood he had lost in the brutal accident. No…no…please. Why was this so hard? Why was this so damn hard?! Pem was a remorseless extremist, a terroristic pyromaniac, a nobody destined to die alone without a consciousness bent on destruction and annihilation of the very beings that were trying to redeem themselves. Redemption wasn't even a figment of a concept in a multihued, shockingly twisted equanimity like Pem's contorted mind. There would never be any form of decency in him…yet here he was like this, speaking softly and wisely again as if someone had flipped a switch somewhere in the hidden recesses of his brain to bring him back to the light. In a strange way, Pem was right. He had broken open the first wave of blinding independence over Vort by pitting the Tallest against their dictatorial leaders, had indirectly caused them all to end up with Inquisitoria and the implausible support of Sledhob, and had brought about the dire change needed to destroy the mechanical tyrants threatening to overtake them all by force and eat away at the galaxy like it was an artificial luncheon. Pem himself had been blinded by the charmingly warm glow of the picturesque lies of the Control Brains and their idealized utopia of perfection, falling victim to the blinding rage and searing lack of mental control the rest of them had. Through all the wrong that he had caused, all the pain and lives he took, he had somehow managed to give Vort a chance at a better, independent life like he had secretly hoped for in the back of his demented mind. Without him to send Urb Yen and Slad Nuch to Naphrus, Red and Purple would have never gone on their tumultuous journey to rickety self-discovery and realize that all they needed was each other to be truly happy in this life; Red would probably still be on his power-driven path to destruction and Purple would be cold and alone without his partner to recognize his profound, bottomless affections. They would have never managed to stumble back upon Teem in Naphrus 8 after getting lost in the forest, or meet her sweet, motherly wife, Kez, and Lard Nar would have never been called to the Massive for interrogation and the eventual blooming family he had been so gloriously gifted. Without Pem's threats, Sledhob and Utna would have never offered their hardhearted support and army to the IRM, and they would be waging a horrific war all on their own. Pem was it all; the vibrant spark of a new idea looming over the heads of millions, the sickening catalyst for change, and the sadistic beauty of the chaos.

But in some backwards, peculiar way…he was also the natural order that had given everyone their lives back and shown them that family was all they really needed.

"Huh." Lard Nar breathed at the unforeseen, remarkably serene epiphany. "I never thought of you that way." He tightened his hold as Pem lurched once more and let his knees give out with a weak chuckle.

"I-I'm…a bad person." He admitted freely without inhibition, resting his soft chin against Lard Nar's shoulder as he tried to think through the growing lucidity of the horrific realization that he probably wasn't going to make it out of this one. "B-But…please…just do one thing for me. Y-You can spit on my body for all…um…for all I care but please just…" He tried to reach between them with trembling, weakly frozen fingers, slumping limply back forward against his chest when Lard Nar hastily reached up and helped him to clasp the zipper and pull the front of his thick, destroyed jacket free.

Lard Nar swallowed again and brought a reluctant, unsteady hand up to his goggles, running the ball of his blood streaked palm up under the rim to smooth over his bitter eyes when his vision misted with an unprovoked, uncharacteristic round of hot tears. "H'aldit dau dit yala'hya? (What do you need?)" He stuttered out in Vortian, resorting to their harsh native tongue and naturally matching Pem's feeble, fractured grin as he fought to stay awake through the overpowering agony. "Torq'ua sen mal. (Tell me.)"

"Ugrauhe'mat. (Picture.) P-Pocket….hold it up for me again…please." His voice was growing abrasive and faint, almost as if someone was dimming the usually flamboyant, eclectic light shining behind his once manic pupils now gone cold and near lifeless.

He peeled his wistful gaze up sluggishly and attempted to hold Lard Nar's tearing eye contact as he nodded encouragingly with a soft tenderness that usually wasn't there, allowing his uneven smile to fade completely when his enemy's bare hand dug tentatively through the frayed internal pocket of his jacket and pulled out a primitive, square photograph he had secretly carried for cycles against what was left of his shriveled heart. It had been delicately stained several times over with well-loved morning tea and the occasional greasy oil spill of engineering projects gone awry; every corner was eaten away by natural wear, and the white rimming had faded to a peaked yellow against the cruel mistress of time. Pem had attempted to tape it back together a couple of times, ruggedly laminating it in cheap plastic glaring back at Lard Nar in the pale light as he gaped down in awe at the disconcertingly magnificent image staring back at him. It was Pem as a young man at the height of his incredible career, swallowed by a long, white lab coat and collar that was far too big for his scrawny frame, leaning leisurely against a beautifully manicured desk littered with ingenious schematics he had once been enthralled to share with his allies in the Irken Empire. He didn't look fatigued or disturbed, he didn't look relentlessly on the verge of a violent meltdown. He looked genuinely happy, with a flawless, gleaming smile and a set of chunky-rimmed goggles clinging haphazardly to his face as he laughed jovially at the sweet face swaddled in a thick nest of plush, handmade blankets in his arms.

It was a child…his child.

"M-My wife took that…at my office when we adopted Nea." Pem chuckled when Lard Nar held up the photograph for him to run his now watery eyes over one last time. He chewed on his lip as he considered something dire, eating away at the last fringes of his exhausted, tortured soul before he slipped away into nothing. "The…um…the Elite took her from my wife before they shot her. Nea was…t-taken to a children's camp to be raised as a s-servant for the Irken Empire."

Lard Nar blinked in horrid surprise when Pem feebly pushed off of him with his last remaining strength, taking a wobbly step backwards and leaving the photograph in his quivering hands to keep for the rest of his long, dreary days. Pem didn't break eye contact, almost as if he had predicted his nasty fate since the beginning of their first official meeting, stalking back on precarious feet over a thinly protruding, unstable beam as the frigid wind clipped his battered body and threatened to topple him a death-defying forty stories to the violently raging war below.

"W-Wait! D-Don't do this, Pem! You don't have to!" Lard Nar felt the desperate, panicky plea escape across against his lips without thinking, scrambling forward over broken glass and warped metal as it cut and dug at his knees, feeling his heart skip a beat when the slender beam supporting his target creaked and groaned under his unwanted weight. "You're sick in the mind, and that's not your fault! You're so sick, but there are ways to help you! Ways _I_ can help you!" He extended his free hand out to try and reach his wavering enemy as he stared back with saddened disbelief, turning away and staring out into the distance to mull over the philosophical travesty he was about to commit. "I mean we can find out how to help you be happy again."

Pem shivered in the limb-deadening cold as a dense, rolling clap of ominous thunder sounded in the near distance. "A-And go to prison for the rest of my life? I can _never_ go back there, Lard Nar. Y-You and I both know that. I-I…just promise me you'll find Nea…i-if she's still alive…H-Her birthday was three weeks ago and she's 35 cycles old now. J-Just tell her…Daddy loves her and that I'm sorry for…not finding her." He choked as another tiny spurt of stale blood bubbled up in the back of his throat and threatened to throw his dreadfully perilous equilibrium askew.

"No! Please, listen to me! I've never seen you like you were in this photograph! This changes everything and means there's still hope for you! I promise. There's always hope if you know how to find it." Lard Nar threw his arm high I the air as he held Pem's terrified gaze as he sputtered, watching as he stared at his own false reflection in the exquisite snapshot replaying his soft, loving past. "You were a good man once, and you can be again. If your daughter is alive, then you should find her and show her how much you missed her. Don't you think she'll want to have her father back?" He lowered his hand and tentatively took a laborious step forward, feeling his irregular breath catch in his windpipe when Pem responded by shimmying back further into the night. "Please, Pem. I never knew this man, but I can tell he was good. You don't have to be a monster; you have a choice!"

"Lard Nar what the hell are you doing?!" Red yelled furiously from behind when his anticipation spiked, using his feral, brute strength to pry open the blistering hot plasma cover to the Ripper's carefully shrouded core as Purple meticulously unscrewed tiny bolts as quickly as he could manage without jeopardizing the whole of their transitory safety. "Let him go! He'll just keep coming back and destroying everything we love!"

"N-No! I-I can't!" He shouted back as he halfway burst into hysterical, panicked tears, freezing when he startled himself beyond recognition, slowly turning back when Pem stopped in his tracks and let his jaw go slack. "I can't let him die!"

…Can't?

Had he really just said that…? Why? Pem killed his younger brother under the guise that he was a failure to their rebellious cause. Pem caused the untimely downfall of Urb Yen by forcing Purple to act out of self-defense to save his partner. Pem had shot Purple in the ribcage, blew the Massive to terrifying shreds, threatened the safety of numerous innocent planets including their own, murdered dozens of brave IRM soldiers, shot Utna out of the sky in her flagship, and stalked him for cycles without his knowledge.

Can't.

The world rattled around in his mind like a drug induced high, blurring his vision to everything but the disgustingly gruesome, heartless beast battling with his own rapidly fading life before him, drenched in a mixture of their own blood and hemorrhaging sporadically against the forceful loss of his hand and the numbness creeping over his extremities as a hasty warning sign to the grisly inevitable. Why couldn't he just let him go? He hated him…hated him more than anything on this world or any other and wanted to watch him burn in the sadistic, fiery pits of hell where he rightfully belonged. But, why did he feel horrendously sick to his stomach watching him sway in the ominously encroaching storm and want to reach out and tenderly take him down from his mind-numbing perch and save him for the better?

Maybe…maybe Pem had become part of him in a distorted, insensitive way.

He had treacherously wormed his way into Lard Nar's life for cycles and dug his vicious claws into ever crevasse of his heavily scarred memories, smoothing over the terrible stagnation of leading the Resisty to constant failure and giving him a true purpose once more on an intergalactic scale. Pem had become his very identity on an unstable, molecular level, the objective that always seemed to slip like jelly and bromine through his frustrated fingers and slither away like a slimy snake into tall grass to leave Lard Nar to plan his next attack. He was always one nimble step ahead of everyone, using his incredible intellect and scientific knowledge to create ingenious, infinitely clever ways of rigging fatal, maiming explosions and hack into the meager firewalls of well-guarded government systems with the leisure flick of his wiry wrist. Then, it dawned on him. Lard Nar shrunk back into himself when he realized what exactly he was feeling; possessiveness. He never wanted to say goodbye to Pem, because he owned a piece of him…and Pem owned a piece of him in return. They had danced boisterously to their own self-composed tune in a seemingly never-ending waltz of erroneous violence and destroyed flesh to a bleaker, graver apocalyptic wasteland looming against their impressive combined body count. Lard Nar lived to chase Pem, breathed to stifle his tongue, and ached to tear out his very soul. What would he be without him? Where would he go? Would he even exist? They were two sides of the same coin, yin and yang, black and white, the typical cowboy and robber; always together and one never able to completely function without the presence of the other.

They _were_ each other.

"I-I can't let you go." He whimpered over the sound of the head brain swiftly coming to its wary senses completely and attempting to quickly reattach itself to the ceiling as Red yelled feverishly to Purple to hurry before it took over control of the thundering insanity once more. "I hate you. I hate you more than anything I've ever hated. But what am I without you, Pem? What's my purpose?"

Pem thought a long moment, letting his now flaccid horns droop and wave freely in the breeze as his feet threatened to give. He tenderly shut his eyes with a soft smile, a single tear rolling down his sliced cheek to wash away the sickening, dastardly blood it found there and leave a perfect trail of smooth gray skin. "Y-You…you're a good man, Lard Nar…there's so many reasons to love you. After everything…I still love you." He called back resolutely as Lard Nar burst into unnerved tears at his enemy's final decision, stealing one last, languid glimpse of his love's fractured, pained expression before he threw his head back to the final streams of beautiful starlight glittering welcomingly through the encroaching blanket of clouds shrouding them in nature's embrace.

He was ready. He had been ready for a long while.

"A-Almost every prophet becomes a martyr…right?"

"W-Wait! Don't do this, Pem! We can get you help and-!"

Lard Nar lost his frantic words and screamed out his undesirable, soul-shattering distress and clamped his hands over his mouth as Pem smiled with profoundly sad sympathy back at him with the wide grin that had forever burned into his mind as a symbol of their complicated, flawed relationship before taking one awful step too far.

"No, please, I'm scared!" Lard Nar cried the pathetic admittance through his rolling tears, shucking his goggles and tossing them haphazardly to the side, not caring if he could no longer see the formless shape staring him leisurely down from afar. "I-I'm so scared. I hate you, but without you to fight I go back to being a failure!"

Pem merely chuckled as his balance wavered. "You're scared? W-Why? Because you…think you'll cease to exist without me to chase? Y-You're not…a failure. Look around you. You caused so much d-delicious destruction…so much peril and b-bloodshed." He shook his head in the characteristically teasing way he had always done, only further hooking Lard Nar into trying to talk him down out of his suicide mission, cutting him off when he sputtered through his sobs. "Y-You…will _never_ be rid of me."

Lard Nar felt his skin crawl at the sudden darkening of the atmosphere, feeling it close in around him as Pem narrowed his eyes with a wide, dastardly grin and smeared his thick blood over his once pearly white teeth with his long tongue. "What?" He breathed in misunderstanding, unsure if Pem could hear him over the slew of violent curses Red was throwing out in the menacing background unfolding dangerously behind them. "What do you mean?"

"I-I mean…I will always be in your head." Pem reached up and tapped between his sluggish, green eyes as his faint mirth turned to an unpromising, swaying laughter that shattered the calm atmosphere. "I-I will never…ever…go away. Y-You will see me when you s-sleep…when you eat…when y-you shower. I own you a-and I always will have control over your thoughts. I will always be there just…for…_you_."

"I-I'll never be like you!" Lard Nar retaliated hotly, growing dizzy with the horrendous concoction of confounding, warring emotions battling fervently in the back of his skull. "I-I won't ever be like-"

"Y-You already _are_ me."

Pem allowed his eyes to flutter peacefully shut with an inaudible sigh of accepting relief as he was overcome by his own assumed tranquility for the first time in a long while, knowing that all the internalized anguish and pitiable suffering raging in his infinitely broken, disturbed mind would be finally be gently snuffed out and reclaimed by the gorgeous universe flittering around him. Death had been chasing him from conception, unraveling his anxious psyche in his professional, scrupulous hands and pinning Pem to rot in the hard ground like every other forgotten tree stump or pitiful, lifeless cadaver in the cosmos.

That was just the cruel fact of life.

Everyone must die someday.

There would be no more hideous wars to wage, no more brittle bones to crush or sizzling plasma shots to fire. There would be no more late night screaming when his own thoughts would become too horrific to handle every time he glanced in a mirror, and no more nightmares of the thousands of terrified, pleading eyes stamped through the darkness at the end of the heating coils of his pistol.

He had lost…he had lost it all and he was strangely alright with that now, standing in the presence of the only other being in the cosmos besides his long lost family that he had ever felt genuine, bottomless, profound love for in its purest, most sadistic form. He got off on the torture, the tears and the fear reflected back in Lard Nar's half blind eyes. Beautiful.

He may be lost, but he would soon be found once more. What Pem had failed to do in his short, young life would live on in the papers, the transmissions, the festering young minds of ripe extremists itching for action and unnecessary bloodshed. He would always be there, lingering in the shadows of demented psychological messes and munching away on poorly treated slaves until they rose up and tackled back with gnashing teeth and shredding claws at the Irken menace he loathed. Lard Nar scrambled frantically to the edge when Pem's still body disappeared into the swirling darkness below and struggled against his failing vision to keep his wild panic locked firmly onto that fluttering coat as he allowed himself to finally let go. He disappeared quickly, falling silently like a soft, beautiful feather before the yawning gloom swallowed him whole and he was taken completely from the cosmos for good when his sturdy body crunched and parted the sea of vehement Inquisitorian and Irken soldiers gnashing at throats below, his spine crushed upon impact to be destroyed and his thin smile stamped against his destroyed face as the final traces of sickening, vibrant radiance went from his green orbs and fluttered into the night like a deadly wisp of disgusting sulfur. What remained of his bright blue blood splattered like a distressingly elegant painting of his agonizingly bitter, unfortunate life against the ice-coated metal of the boulevard, melting at the chilly air as every stiff, overly tense muscle went peacefully slack and oozed away into the lifeless bag of shattered femurs and sharp disjointed hips he had become.

Pem had killed himself.

It was over…Lard Nar would finally be free

He wasn't even sure what he had just witnessed was true, blinking down against the daunting gloom to the unbelievably devastating slaughter he could barely make out without the much needed help of his goggles, clutching blankly at the now disquieting photograph glued to his shaking fingers as he tried to put rational sense to something so extraordinarily senseless and gruesome. The narcissistic, arrogant, psychotic menace with an overinflated ego the size of a planet had just…jumped? He jumped…oh Vort, no, he _jumped_. He was gone just like that?! Lard Nar could feel his brain shorting alarmingly as his blurred instinct attempted to biologically remedy the wholly distressing horrors he had just heard and perceived, rapidly deleting memories as he disassociated from his immediate surroundings and slumped to the ground with a near catatonic gawk. His blown out senses dulled and slowed when Purple shouted something over the hull of the Ripper, waving violently to try and clutch at Lard Nar's wavering attention and finally drag him back into the game.

Pem.

Pem was gone.

Pem was crushed.

Pem.

Why just his name? Why did it sound so distant now? Why did he even care in the first place?!

Lard Nar struggled to push himself up through the sharp, skin-tugging debris littered at his ankles, trying to shake his lucid shock from his battered, shorting mind and move forward with the dire importance of the mission to decide the fate of all in the universe. He couldn't move, frozen in place where he stood while the disgusting, vile, repulsive name of someone he both loathed and needed spilled in horrendous tidal waves through his thoughts and blurred his dying senses while he tried to blindly feel about for his missing goggles.

Pem.

Pem.

Pem.

A repeated loop of dastardly consequence and frightening connotation, the words of a madman finally peeling back his carefully guarded layers like a cake as he inched about in an expressionless, stress induced fugue, slicing his hands open against once pristine sheet metal and severed wires begging to dig into his flesh. He was right. Lard Nar could still hear him even through the pain and the suffering of the wildly thrashing Control Brains and shouts of his panicked friends as Purple worked tirelessly in the background to jam his tiny electric poker into the main frame of the power core's wiring, cycles of unknown emotional pressure and outlandish manipulation sticking with him like a well-sharped knife to his sodden heart. No…no…what if he was just as crazy as the madman who had plagued him? What if, through all the unjust, unbearably excruciating trauma of his constant string of loss, he never found his way back to the light of clearheaded thought again?

Pem…_You lost your goggles there, buddy? Man, that's rough._

Pem…_Come on, I think you can do better than that. Gotta look harder if you're gonna find them!_

Pem…_Can you hear it yet? I'm here to eat away at your very heart and soul until-_

Tiny, cautious hands startled him when they landed tentatively on his trembling shoulder and caused him to quickly refocus despite the strange, overconfident ring of continued disturbing, slurred speech in his exhausted mind, bringing Lard Nar back to the frayed, perilous present through his salty tears when someone petite and sincere knelt gently before him to wipe away his aggrieved, liquid sentiment for a man he had never even loved but disgustingly needed regardless, feeling the soft touch of milky pink, threadbare fabric swiping soothingly over his enflamed cheeks to smooth away his seemingly unrestricted dread with the heartfelt smolder of kindness.

"Oh, honey, no! It's ok! I-It's over now!" A sweet-tempered but frantic voice cooed and lovingly hushed him beyond his heart wrenching agony, shuffling about awkwardly through the horrifically intense rubble before completely pulling what remained of the dress back over her head as she shivered in the subzero winds. "Everything will be alright, now, I promise!"

Lard Nar squinted and reached out with unsteady, expectant hands, almost relieved when little, fully restored Kez plopped his bloodstained prescription goggles in his waiting fingers from where she had been watching his meltdown with bated, irritated breath that Pem would have the audacity to hurt him so badly like this. He swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded to himself, unhooking the side clasp and gradually slipping them back on through the growing pandemonium swirling and twirling around them like a torrential, furious hurricane, adjusting the convex lenses over his eyes and blinking harshly in the renewed light as Kez threw herself around his shoulders in a tight embrace.

"I-I'm so sorry, Lard Nar! If I did anything to you while I was crazy…I-I…" Kez threatened to break down and bawl against his shoulder as she curled further into his chest, her once mellow voice cracked against the trauma and wear and tear of the brutal, unnecessary slew of dastardly code that had been forced down her throat and into the very reaches of who she was. "I-I'm so…so sorry!"

Lard Nar returned his adopted sister's hurried embrace and held her close through the mangling, electric chaos as she grappled with her own growing insecurities. "You…didn't do anything to me." He lied softly, trying to keep his missing finger hidden from sight as she shook and trembled in his hold. "You were under the influence of the Control Brains and no one blames you for your actions."

He heard Kez sniff thickly against his damaged cheek and tugged his long horns back to get a better look at her face. She had been whipped hard over the eye by a rogue tendril during the crash and it had matted terribly shut through the atrocious swelling in her delicate skin, halfway dulling her still unnerved senses to the world as she reeled from the idea of having been so out of her mind for so long. She was broken on the worst of levels, several of her perfect claws chipped away and raggedly broken when she was forced to remove her leather gloves against her will, and her communication's headset was nowhere to be seen in the violent destruction. She didn't deserve this…none of them deserved the senselessness of the fear and violence plaguing their war-torn psyches and ruining their dreams in exchange for vivid nightmares for the rest of their hopefully long lives. He opened his mouth to say something, yelping in unexpected shock when the head Control Brain hoisted itself back up to the ceiling and snaked its long, dominating cords back though the room to evaluate the extent of the damage before turning it's now deeply irate sights on the still revolving generator, inching forward to try and challenge Red away from his husband and his work.

"That's all great you two but get over here and _help_ us!" Purple shouted over the earsplitting mayhem, ducking with a gasp when the brain attempted to reach out for him through its still blurry, wavering concentration and grab for his dented PAK to rip it cleanly from his spine before he could finish his Irk-shattering work.

Kez shot to her feet and panicked, throwing out her now sputtering, contemptible excuses for PAK lasers and firing back against the hostile beasts threatening her frantic family on an uncoordinated whim when Purple cried out and fell forward against the searing hot hull as a sadistic wire from a downed brain snatched him from around the ankle and tried to hoist him up through the air to throw him back several feet. She connected ruthlessly with an already forming fracture in the lesser, violent monster's damaged faceplate, demolishing what was left of its pitiful ocular panel and forcing it to drop Purple hard against the ship in its now sightless tumult. Lard Nar quickly stuffed Pem's photograph in his torn pocket and spotted his pistol from afar, working up enough strength to limp agonizingly through the knee-deep rubble and brush back machinery like he was wading through the thickest of virgin jungles, snatching for the rubber grip under a heavily contorted iron bar and silently praising himself when his fingers could barely reach the cool casing.

"Red! You're a better shot than I am!" He held up the disfigured pistol and chucked it in his brother's direction, ecstatic that his incredible reflexes were still somewhat intact as he skillfully seized it and immediately began detonating powerful plasma blasts up at their waiting nemesis, combining his onslaught with the searing, white-hot power of the single laser left functioning in his ravaged PAK.

Kez fell in to his side, lobbing up her tiny, balled fists and endeavoring to punch away thrashing, struggling cords as they fought valiantly to shield Purple and his crucial work. Kez gasped when her good eye caught sight of Red's free hand when Lard Nar rushed to help his partner untangle the final mess of electronic motherboards and hinges needed to reach the extension port they were so desperately after, running her smooth, loving gaze over the blistering burn etched across his stinging, blood-encrusted palm.

"Y-You…you're married?!" She giggled with anxious cheerfulness, eradicating a snake-like mess slithering its way across the severely cracked floor and barely dodging another mammoth, overbearing blow to the face as she thrust herself back several feet on questionable, robotic extensions. "You two eloped without me?!"

Lard Nar blinked in surprise, a wide, unmatched grin coming over his previously unsteady features as he shouted out their beautiful success. "I knew it was only a matter of time before you two got tired of waiting!"

Red gritted his teeth and threw himself speedily in front of Purple's turned back as the head brain craned down ominously to get a better look at their hasty, under planned progress, barely missing another one of its spidery, smoldering eyes as it drifted lazily to the right and threatened repulsively to open up another wave of ghastly, undeserved data assimilation. "Yeah, we're married, don't dwell on it right now!" He half-laughed, half-shouted when Purple gave a tentative glance over his shoulder and rolled his eyes mockingly to the uncanny callousness in his husband's extraordinarily determined voice.

"I still want a physical ceremony!" He warned teasingly with a wry smirk, reaching up and biting through thin cords with his teeth, spitting disgustingly to the side when he got a mouthful of stale, greasy petroleum over his dry tongue. "And a chocolate wedding cake! I don't care if it's not traditional!"

"Whatever you want, honey!" Red snapped back, drawing a tentative, shaky giggle from his partner's buzzing mind as he worked frantically to find the connection port, cursing when his hand wouldn't fit through the new sheath design.

"Stop saying that. It's only cute when _I_ say it." Purple tried again, wincing against the dig of harsh metal scraping against his wrist as he tried to somehow power through the pain and force his way inside the main compartment. "It makes you sound old when you say it."

Another powerful shot rang out in Red's steady hands as he squinted professionally down Pem's rugged, homemade sight, grumbling under his breath when the brain lulled again and drifted annoyingly down to enjoy his mounting frustration. "Shut up! Just hurry up and figure out how to get this thing offline already, _honey_!" He retorted snidely as they jokingly bantered through the anarchy, scowling when his weapon threatened to give under the rapid-fire stress of overheated plasma.

Without warning, Kez gasped in alarm and pointed when she noticed something sinister looming beneath the brain's lithe frame oozing into a glowing blue light and warning them of the horrendous, mind-numbing warm up process to restart ruthless code assimilation on them all once more. "It's going to try and take us back!" She screeched through terrified tears, falling in closer to Red for some kind of anchor in the mindless brutality. "I-I can't go back! I can't have all those awful voices in my head again!"

Red swallowed his mounting dread when he fixated on the unsettling, intimidating luminescence trying to hook into the other brains littered about the room and give them some semblance of control over their dilapidated environment. "Pur, you might wanna hurry up!" He cautioned urgently, taking a few steps back with wide eyes when he managed to pick up the muffled sound of whizzing electrical systems singing themselves awake inside their damaged enemy.

"I'm working on it!" Purple snapped hotly, tugging his hand back when he began to bleed against the sharp dig of the ruthless metal, glancing about for anything he could use to dig and feel about in the slot. He blinked when he remembered Lard Nar's background with computer systems, nodding down to where he watched expectantly. "I need you to reach inside here and pull the main hookup. It should feel like a small round ball on the end of a ribbed wire; you can't miss it."

He hoisted Lard Nar up so he could examine his handiwork through the hull, holding his breath in anticipation when he reached up for the teeny, glowing poker before plunging his other hand deep into the radiation core to feel about for the phantom connection cable used to jumpstart ships in a pinch. "Hey, this kinda reminds me of when Pem forced us to work together on the Massive!" Purple pointed out to try and lighten the crushing suffocation bearing down on them all as his husband let loose a torrent of untamed, racy curses back at the brain when it ascended sharply out of his aim and continued its disastrous boot sequence.

Lard Nar winced and delved to his elbow, squeezing his eyes shut and relying on his frantic instinct alone as Purple vaulted back to try and hastily examine the base of the colossal generator's ring link. "D-Don't say his name right now!" He tried to force away the image of Pem's once vibrant eyes stinging his memories, letting his demolished fingers trail over jumbles of mystifying wires and heated bolts, shooting up in a blind panic when the elevator door to the pinnacle nearly rocketed from its rail slide as someone screamed and banged wrathfully against the exacting steel.

Purple spun on his bare heel, peeling his scrutinizing attention away from the glittering copper just long enough to blink in perturbed, startling astonishment as two long, cerulean feelers jammed their way forcefully through the crack in the doors and pried them violently apart with a enraged, seething battle cry of a man completely done with the infuriating turn of immoral events they had all gotten themselves into with this dastardly, horrendously tiresome war. Sledhob thrust his spear through the metal to hold it wide open, struggling and huffing to powerfully hoist himself up through the incredibly steep shaft he had somehow managed to impossibly scale from forty stories down, bellowing out hot, untamed Inquisitorian curses in his deep, ruthless voice as he finally flopped to the ground and rolled onto his back to breathe for a few, much-needed seconds. It was a short-lived rest, however, several smaller brains sensing the immediate threat and itching to instinctively neutralize it through the horrendous irrationality Lard Nar's crash had wrought, forcing Sledhob to his sore feet as he grabbed quickly for his elongated, menacing javelin and expertly hooked his tibial spines around the pole, flipping a few authoritative switches and raking through the already extensive carnage with blistering, suppurating bolts of unsoiled blue electricity.

"What have you gentlemen," he paused when he noticed Kez with an energetic smile, firing meticulously through glassy eyes and rendering terrible machines lifeless as tiny shards of glass sprayed back from his blows like glitter, "and _lady_, done here?!" He cried out lightly, making impressed eye contact with Red as he smacked the side of Pem's pistol on the ball of his palm and tried with all his might to get it to unjam when it officially stalled.

"Don't ask!" Red responded, throwing the now defunct weapon to the side and resorting to using his singing PAK laser alone combined with his bloodthirsty hands, forgetting the excruciating pain in his destroyed, dripping shoulder in favor of the undying instinct to protect his mate when Purple crouched and ran his expert fingers along the thin seam of where the massive, rotating ring connected to the base on a small stand, desperate to find any way to shove the flat end of his tool into the generator and shock it offline. "The head brain is going to try and sweep us with an override code! Can you get to it and destroy the sensor on the underside?!"

Sledhob threw his head back with a short laugh that his old friend even had to question his abilities, wading with incredible grace through the perilous, enraged crowd of wiggling wires and riotously humming, disgruntled dictators seething for more unstable leverage in their rapidly diminishing world. "Of course, Commander!" He shouted back with eager anticipation, taking a running start before thrusting his spear hard into a split fissure in the ground, rocketing himself up through an elegant vault to try and snatch at the belly of the whirring brain and hook his insect-like appendages into one of the many shuddering panels, missing and grumbling hotly to himself as he hissed exasperatingly and spat hot, corrosive venom up at his adversary before narrowing his wild eye and trying again.

With Sledhob distracting the Control Brains, Red swiftly turned back to protecting his focused partner, stomping ruthlessly on wires as Kez grappled with the burn in her screaming muscles, forcing herself to keep going as she poured sweat from her angrily furrowed brow and panted through the agonizing distress threatening to overtake her at any moment.

"I-I found it!" Lard Nar's eyes lit up as Sledhob yelled something ferociously in his fluid native tongue and tried to flip himself like a weightless ragdoll towards the continuous abdomen of the flittering beast they were all working to undermine. Lard Nar ripped free the connector and struggled to pull his arm from the tight slat, bracing himself against the chipped paint of the once beautiful hull before tumbling back to the ground, dragging out an extensive violet wire in his determined grip.

Purple almost came unglued with ecstatic elation when his friend hastily unscrewed the bottom of his power tool with shaky, adrenaline fueled hands, shoving the pronged pins of the ship's main interface into the petite poker and immediately yelping in sudden, burning pain when a powerful, mind-bending shock rocketed him back a few grisly feet and slammed him hard into the side of the ravaged ship. His petite form couldn't handle the searing stress of thousands of prevailing volts of electricity digging into his nervous system and prying it apart like thread, slurring something uncomprehendingly in Vortian with a weak, uneven cough as ripples of residual static bounced through his twitching body and rendering him unconscious in the wreckage.

Dammit, he should have known this would happen! How could Purple be so stupid as to not foresee the tremendously overpowering energy behind the monstrous disaster they had created? He stared down at the crackling tool as it sputtered unpromisingly, trying to mull over how to grab it without obliterating his senses and knocking himself out cold to the world. Maybe…maybe he could spread the stress out?

"Red! I-I need your help! We have to grab this thing and shove it in the seam at the base of the ring. I can't grab it by myself, and it's gonna hurt." He took his partner by his good shoulder and twisted him around to face him, searching his determined face when he didn't so much as question his motives, nodding out his immediate compliance and reaching down to hover tentatively over the sparking hunk of metal and quickly frying wiring, watching as it began to melt and ooze lazily to the floor under the dire, disgustingly hot twinge of intense electric current.

Sledhob yelled in terror when the head brain thrust out a booming, thunderous shockwave, knocking him to his knees and sending out a blast of harsh energy powerful enough to blow everyone back several feet to crumpled heaps. "This is not the way to success." The brain robotically scolded as Red groaned and pushed himself up to all fours, reaching out and taking Purple by the hand when he battled to shake the throbbing, dizzying ache from the back of his head. "You are undermining the success and continued survival of this universe by ridding it of the chance to be perfect. A perfect universe will not be plagued by social inconsistencies or emotive wars." It finished its terrifying boot sequence, racing against the clock to feed code out into the atmosphere in horrific waves. "This universe and everything in it belongs to _my kind_."

Purple shot Red a look and tightened his grip around his long fingers, stiffening for the unpleasant inevitable as they stood in tandem before taking a deep, unsteady inhale and holding it against the incredibly mind-numbing fear that was to ensue and swallow them whole in an electric torrent of substantially awful agony. Kez fell in wordlessly, grabbing up for Red's free hand with a terrified smile, turning her attention back up to the Control Brain as its devious, nauseating cloud of invasive data leaked into the frigid night and crept closer in the darkness. Purple felt his breath hitch when Sledhob stumbled his way to their makeshift group, sliding his sharp feelers over his shoulders to brace him against the ground for the spine-breaking impact, clicking his stout mandibles in exhilarated excitement as they collectively moved as one.

"You know what?" Purple called back, swallowing his fear as a blinding, gallant courageousness flooded his mind and gave him an impossible boost. "It's not your universe anymore!"

He flew down and wrapped his bare, unprotected palm around the handle of the sizzling tool, crying out and immediately feeling his voice die out when his vocal chords quit and his jaw clamped down on his tongue, drawing fresh, metallic tasting blood to leak in tiny rivulets from between his teeth. The molten glow of disgusting, excruciatingly painful electricity traveled like lightning, locking limbs together as petrified eyes flew wide and rolled back involuntarily to the jerking, thrashing feeling of being wholly overtaken. Bodies seized, carrying far too much stress but somehow managing to hold it together through the frothing, ferociously simmering strain of unforeseen agony raking through sensitive, damaged flesh and crisp exoskeletons. Purple labored through every involuntary spasm, maintaining his hold on Red's abraised hand and focusing on the glorious, world changing feeling of the beautiful burn mark smashed forcefully against his as Sledhob dug his needle-like tibial spines mercilessly into his shuddering shoulders against his will and threatened to crack him like delicate china. He inched forward against the blinding burn creeping up and snatching at his already damaged ocular lenses, the first fringes of unconsciousness biting at his unsteady, ruthlessly fried peripheries as his powerful family and friends tried with all their collective might to move with him. He could see the tiny seam as he shook, extending out against the force of nature itself as the Control Brain roared uncontrollably and thrashed riotously in its hazardous suspension, urging the code to sink deep into the collective PAKs of everyone in attendance as Sledhob finally dropped to the ground against the sheer force of the mind-numbing stress and threat of immediate organ failure. As soon as his hold was relinquished, the feeling of unbearable suffering doubled, Purple gritting his teeth against the awful torture as he neared his target, fighting and warring with the horrendously invasive feeling of the head brain digging back into his memories and attempting to destroy key elements of what made him unique. No. _Not_ now, _not_ today, _not_ ever!

No more!

He jammed the sharp, flat end of the jittering tool in the tiny, thin slash of a seam and peeled his charred palm back, stumbling on numb feet as Red collapsed to the ground in a limp, unresponsive heap with Kez, her PAK legs twitching worryingly as Purple fell to his bruised knees with a fragile, blurry smile at the gorgeous destruction immediately unfolding like an affluent, outstanding lightshow above him; sparks of all hues and tints flew horrifically in every direction as he panted and struggled to stay upright, falling to his side and reaching out sluggishly for his partner's still twitching arm. The generator crackled and sparked at the thin base and the deafening sound of thousands of fluid volts of authoritative electric current rebounded with a distinctive, cruel, scientific beauty through the whole of the energy converter, blowing it completely with a strident pop and a flash of strobing light that forced Purple to squeeze his eyes shut and wait out his untested theory and simply hope it worked.

It had to work.

Suddenly, there was a loud, overbearing boom as the casing of the horrific Control Brain shorted and overloaded, igniting in a torrent of powerful, intense flames that quickly engulfed its wavering body as it tried to speak in once well versed Irken but failed, resorting to what Purple could only assume was a horrified string of zeros and ones clicking and beeping out in frantic succession as it thrashed. Panels flew from its body as it shuddered and tore itself apart, hanging on to the final simmer of precious dark matter energy when the gargantuan, never ending ring finally came to an abrupt, groaning halt after hundreds of thousands of years of domineering chaos under the rule of bloodthirsty, fuming collective. Wire casings melted, humming died down and faded away into the zephyr-like wind howling outside, glowing eyes dulled and clicked off permanently to a peaceful, cradling darkness.

The last thing Purple remembered before falling victim to his own exhaustion and collapsing completely against his husband's unmoving shoulder was the incredible, magnificently stunning sight of the main Control Brain careening down to the floor like a fallen, beheaded monarch from its carefully woven suspension. There was no more pulsing magenta light, no more invasive, mind-splitting code, no more faint clink of copper on glass as the ring came to a complete stop and halted a uniquely incredible piece of ancient Irken engineering for the final time. All that sounded was the gentle moan of the wind outside signaling the start of a serenely purifying hydrogen rain over the colossal city as it washed away the pools of blood left behind in their combined wake.

The Control Brains…The Collective were…_gone_.

They did it.

For the first time since their run in with the New Resisty in the chilly forests of Naphrus, Purple let himself relax completely without any inhibitions to bog down his tired mind, melting into Red's balmy skin as he breathed steadily in his comatose, mechanically induced intoxication. He pressed his long antennae to his husband's chest and listened to the steady thump of his slowly deescalating heartbeat behind his cracked ribcage, letting his eyes flutter shut to the sound of his own personal lullaby ushering him into a deep, incredibly exhausted sleep that couldn't be stopped. They were no longer under the domineering thumb of the Control Brains. The Armada, the Elite, and billions of citizens around the universe were relinquished from their awful, mechanical dictators once and for all. Purple felt himself slipping and didn't try to fight with the rapidly encroaching harmony of unabridged, unhalted safety washing over his battered body in waves.

They had won…they had won the war,

They were finally free.

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Woo! Yay! Hope you enjoyed and I will see you guys again for a _**FIRM UPDATE TIME of Sunday, November 17, 2019 at 10:00 pm CDT (UTC -5)**_. LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH!

I'm a little sad that Pem is actually dead. He was fun to write for, but I couldn't think of any conceivable way to kill him other than suicide. He's too self-righteous to let someone else kill him and wound his memory, so it just seemed fitting that he would go out with his own strange bang that way.

I also want to say something very important; I realize that the relationship between Lard Nar and Pem, while sort of non-existent, is still incredibly wrong and abusive. I loosely kept the idea of Stockholm Syndrome in the back of my mind when figuring out what to do with them, but there's something else there that even I can't quite put my finger on. Stockholm Syndrome is where a prisoner or a victim falls in love with their captor or abuser...which really isn't necessarily the case here. I wouldn't say that Lard Nar is in love with Pem, but more in love with the IDEA of him and the IDEA of the bizarre back and forth thing they have going on because it gave him a sense of purpose. What I really wanted to say is, if you feel like you are in an abusive relationship, reach out to someone somewhere and don't let it get to the point that this person is literally digging inside your head and tearing you apart. Ok? Mama Charlokitty is gonna go eat some lunch now. I love you all!


	27. The Aftermath

Ehhhh I miss Pem already! The worst part was I told myself not to get too attached to that damn OC because I knew from like chapter 10 how he was gonna die so I saw it coming, but I may have gotten (ehem) attached to my tiny friend REALLY BAD.

I also _LOVE_ how into Lard Nar you guys are getting! Lard Nar was one of my favorite characters on the show as a kid and I am so sad he never got any more appearances (I also don't think he got any in the comic? I've read every issue to date but maybe I'm wrong iunno). There's like literally no information as to what he's supposed to be like besides what we got in the two episodes he appeared and I'm honestly sorta irritated they introduced him and then got cancelled before they could throw him back into the mix! If I remember he was supposed to team up with Dib in the movie they originally had planned, which would have been pretty epic. Anyway, I'll stop rambling and I hope you guys have fun with this chapter and enjoy the aftermath of the war!

**ADORABLE FANART ALERT:** One of our lovely, devoted readers named **shinymoka** has created some more beautiful fanart for us! THANK YOU LOVELY ANGEL I AM TOTALLY IN LOVE AND I KNOW ALL OF OUR INCREDIBLY WONDERFUL READERS WILL BE TOO! They drew Urb Yen from several chapters back and she's seriously so darling and sweet and perfect! AHHH! Everyone be sure to go give their page a shoutout on **Instagram at shinymoka**, and check out the incredible artwork they've made for us! THANK YOU INCREDIBLE ANGEL FOR EVERYTHING YOU'VE DONE AND I LOVE YOU!

p/B4_Na_0g2Gj/ (post found on Instagram)

**Chapter rated strong T for light mentions of violence in the past tense, brief heavy language, obvious allusions to PTSD, reference to past trauma/sexual assault, reference to past suicide, suggestive themes, and general adult content.**

* * *

Strange, eerie memories flowed in rapid succession, playing back every devastating event of the past cycle as phantom screams and chattering voices laced thoughts and pulled them unwillingly to the surface. The sickening crunch of bones and pop of vital organs from the sheer gravity of the Florpus, Urb Yen's horrific cackling ringing out like a powerful detonation as she forcibly extracted Red's tooth, the unfortunately grisly explosion of the once beautiful Massive and Red's trial for the death of General Hoc Nulol. Then came sluggish visions of Pem and his wide, sharp-toothed grin and haughty nasal voice eating away at the stifling atmosphere in the worst of ways; the gut-wrenching war he had caused, the thousands of gruesome casualties and lifeless bodies littering the frozen streets of his Judgementia, the excruciating, throbbing pain of a powerful plasma shot to delicate bone. Everything reeled and twirled faster, a dizzying array of strobing color and the nauseating smell of metallic blood seeping from the very crevices of what once was and becoming a false reality. Vibrant mechanical eyes danced through gloomy, ominous shadows, tendrils snaked and curled viciously, Red's guttural war cry exploded over gunfire.

No…wasn't this over? Hadn't they won?! Where…who…why…what was that? Where was he? No…why was there so much horrific screaming?! Noise…too much noise! T-Too much color and gooey blood seeping through tainted gloves! Too many smells and cuts and burns and…and…!

Purple gasped when he choked on his own haunting flashbacks, letting his eyes shoot wide in panic as he panted wildly and immediately went on the offensive, trying to vault up from where he had been laid out only to find that he was firmly anchored in place by a warm, comforting touch slung protectively over his slowly healing abdomen. He tried again in his alarmed confusion before slumping back down against his thin pillow, taking a deep, shaky inhale and blinking the remaining fringes of his nightly evocations from his ocular lenses as they slithered back into his personal code.

It was just…a nightmare?

Purple felt himself slowly grounding from the uncomfortable shock, sinking into the deep cradle of the sterile medical bed he had been tenderly moved to as he stared up at the dark cerulean ceiling. Where was he? He frowned to himself in bewilderment and glanced to the side, catching sight of a steady glucose IV dripping almost in time with his swiftly calming pulse, allowing his puzzled gaze to trail down to where it was still securely stuck in his vein.

What?

This _wasn't_ the Spike of Judgement?

The last thing Purple remembered was the searing pain of electrocution and the joyous triumph of the terrifying glow of the Control Brains shorting out and dying away. This was different; temperature controlled, comfortable, soothing to his frayed, weary senses. Someone had draped several fluffy white blankets over his battered body to keep him warm as the faint beep of a pulse monitor hooked to his dented PAK echoed softly in the background. A hospital; he was in a hospital? How? How on Irk did he end up here? Where _was_ here? Purple stiffened when he felt someone sigh against him in their sleep, turning to his right and freezing when he realized whose familiar, strong hands were clutching lovingly at his nightshirt. He smiled gently through the peaceful darkness and moved closer across the narrow bed to press into the welcoming body heat soothing him to his toes, melting into the familiar, weathered scent and steady heartbeat that had become his own personal mantra.

Red.

His partner was completely still besides the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he snored softly into Purple's shoulder, his fingers twitching occasionally as he muttered lightly to himself and squished further into his husband's sore muscle. He was here, and he was alive. He reached up and apprehensively smoothed back the thin fabric concealing Red's shoulder, worriedly inspecting his painful shot Lard Nar had landed to his collarbone and letting his sudden, sharp panic subside when he realized his partner's PAK had all but healed him, leaving a severe, brutal scar to add to the swathe of others dotting his well-experienced skin. Thank Irk…thank Irk he held true to his promise and had come home to him.

No matter where they would go, Red would always be his home.

Purple felt his tiny smile turn to a grin of beautiful, heartwarming relief the longer he trailed over Red's undisturbed face, moving his shaky hand under their comforter to brush against his balmy fingers resting limply over his side. He watched him closely, thoroughly examining his second missing tooth in the front from where his mouth hung tranquilly agape against his blue silk sleeve. It was unfortunate, but strangely attractive in a cute way, giving him a new air of comedic innocence to contradict his tough exterior and show off the carefully hidden softness buried deep at his core. That softness was now his to have and hold until his deactivation day.

Wow…

Purple hadn't been allowed to really think about what had happened before in the heat of the violent war raging around them and the antennae-splitting boom of organ piercing plasma shots constantly zipping through the air. He felt a sudden weightlessness flutter up through his bandaged chest, thawing away the final traces of concern and discomposure he had been somehow clinging to. Red had proposed to him in front of the pinnacle of the former Irken justice system, splaying their wholly controversial relationship unashamedly for the universe to see before they eloped under the searing light of the Control Brains. He and Red were married. _Married_. The rowdy country boy from Naphrus, the asshole of an Elite commander, the former Tallest of the Irken Empire and half of the IRM, was _truly_ his. He held up his hand and squinted breathlessly through the shadows, ignoring the uncomfortable sting of the IV hitching in the crook of his arm as he stared up in exquisite awe at the formless burn mark beginning to deeply scar over his palm. He wasn't just a boyfriend anymore; wasn't just a partner or a lover. He was a husband, a single half of a whole joined together in remarkable, limitless matrimony and mated for life despite the world telling them no. This was a day Purple had been sure would never come back when he was still a mechanic, hiding in shadows and longingly admiring the affectionate relationships and profound promises of his giddy peers dancing around him but knowing he could never have what they did. Back then, gay couples were deactivated; murdered and removed from their very lifelines by force all for who they had fallen in love with. Never in a million, billion, _trillion_ cycles did he ever think the monstrosity of a hot mess laying now lying beside him would ever become his husband. They could live a new, heavenly existence together without the threat of death, without having to sneak about in the dark and steal fleeting, hasty kisses around corners or secretly hold hands under desks.

It wasn't illegal anymore.

They had created a universe where love prevailed over hate.

Purple was now able to display his phenomenal status as Red's one and only for the whole of the insensitive universe to see, not caring what they would say or how they would laugh and chide back at his ideas of what true, bottomless love really meant. His love for Red had surmounted the ruthless insanity of unstable terrorists, the blistering heat of sweltering explosions and violently raging infernos, and the despotic mercilessness of whole empires trying to shatter them into thousands of distorted, unrecognizable pieces. He let his eyes flutter shut through his wide smile, swallowing a tiny laugh out of fear he would wake up his slumbering prince before leaning in and grazing his lips over Red's, a fleeting phantom of a kiss but a profoundly sincere one at that.

"I love you." He mouthed inaudibly against his skin, pulling back when his partner scrunched up his face on instinct and mumbled something groggily in response.

Purple winced, feeling a twinge of dull ache resurface when Red shifted at the sudden touch, his palm landing carefully over his re-stitched and meticulously bandaged gunshot. The unexpected pain soon subsided when the comforting warmth of his hand reached through his gauze and relaxingly soothed away the sting building in his gradually healing wound, drawing a soft sigh from Purple's lips as he let himself dissolve completely into the shelter of the strong, attentive hands shielding him from the brutal world creeping outside their door. Finally…he was safe. They were _both_ safe.

Purple listened to Red's even, deep breathing for a long while, struggling to keep himself awake despite the soothing, sleep-inducing rhythm, dozing intermittently into his harmonious hold and only slipping back into true consciousness when an unexpected, white sliver of light cracked the beautiful tranquility of their protected space against his wishes. He squinted towards the intrusion, slightly annoyed and bothered when the door opened just enough for two hazy figures to slip by before it was shut once more with a soft, resounding click. This was the first time since the beginning of the onslaught that he was able to spend completely alone with his new husband and he would prefer to keep it that way, rolling his eyes lazily as he tried to make out who had the audacity to waltz into his room without his permission.

Two sets of uncertain footsteps inched forward through the darkness, whispering hesitantly amongst one another in fleeting hisses and strained murmurs. Purple frowned when his antennae flicked forward into a third sound he didn't recognize, a faint metallic tapping of sorts swishing forward with striking inexperience over the pristine ground, bumping lightly into objects and intrusions as it went. What on Irk was that?

"Purple?" Someone called out finally, keeping their silky voice to a low whisper. "Are you awake yet?"

Purple felt his breath hitch when two familiar Irkens landed at his bedside, grinning down at where he lay covered in sheets of sanitary bandages and bathed in antiseptic as his PAK hummed softly and worked to rejuvenate his war-torn form. He smiled back, forgetting his qualms when tiny Kez popped up over the guardrail with an excited wave, immediately dialing back her enthusiasm when she realized how bleary and woozy her recovering friend still was. The ferocious swelling in her mangled eye had healed completely and gone down, and a few pink, heart covered children's bandages littered the remaining deep abrasions across her jawline as they finished sealing closed. Teem was different and had obviously run into some kind of despicable, horrific trouble during the violent firefight, her petite wife carrying a heavy support machine hooked by dozens of tiny wires to her devastated PAK to keep her afloat as she smiled aimlessly through the shadows. She was bare chested, her once gorgeously tanned skin covered in sheets of fresh gauze and vivid yellow medical tape to conceal the ferocious gunshots riddling her body as she labored to stand. Purple let his eyes flutter down to the strange newness of the long pole clutched firmly in Teem's sliced fingers, watching as she fiddled with the red rubber grip and the woven safety strap on the end before reaching out without direction over his bed.

"Are you awake?" She repeated vaguely in a raspy tone, clearing her throat and holding her bizarre, perplexing stance and waiting for Purple to move up and take her fingers in his.

He swallowed and shot Kez a look of abrupt misunderstanding, blinking when she nodded him on and encouraged him to take his friend's hand as she stared forward blankly with a tiny beam cracking her weary face. He tentatively did as he was advised, struggling to lift his arm enough to grab for her and noticing his smile immediately return when she latched on and began feeling up the length of his arm, careful with the needle secured firmly in his skin before inching up to his shoulder.

"Damn man, you feel like you've been through a shredder. At least I'm not alone, I guess." She giggled mockingly, biting her lip as she continued up over his jaw and accidentally stuck her fingers in his mouth, halfway choking him in the process. "Shit, sorry. I-I'm still sorta getting used to this."

Purple spat with a light cough, hesitating a moment when Red moved slightly and pressed his chest further into his lover's side before exhaling lowly and drifting back off to the sleep he needed more than anything. " Good to see you too, Teem. You know Pem shot me, right?" He whispered back, watching as Teem's hazy eyes flittered strangely at the far wall as she nodded.

"Yeah, Red told me when he came by earlier." She paused, moving her gentle palm away from his face to slide back down across the frame of the bed before furrowing her brow at every texture gracing her sensitive fingertips. "You were out like a light when you guys got here and Red said they had to rush you into emergency surgery to take the pin out of your PAK and cauterize your lower spooch. Crazy huh? You should have been dead and everyone is saying you're, like, invincible."

That would explain the burn in his chest. Purple nodded, still slightly uncomfortable when Teem kept blatantly ignoring his movements. "I guess. Uh…where exactly are we?" He asked when his friend pulled back and wrapped her fingers around her cane once more.

"Oh. We're on Inquisitoria in the medical town of Stads. The capitol, Essis, is holding a ceremony for the dead so they figured we would have more peace and quiet here to rest. I guess they shoot off canons all day in honor of those lost or something." She explained with great interest, brushing her thumbs back over the rubber grip of her pole before chuckling solemnly and changing the subject. "I wish you could have heard how pissed off Red was when the medical drone told him he couldn't come in here while you recovered from your surgery. He kept saying he would throw her off the roof if she didn't let him sleep with you and I'm pretty sure she thought he was serious."

Purple glanced back over to where his ridiculous other half drooled against him, holding back another giggle when Teem reached back out and groped for his shoulder, landing instead on his chest with a look of sheer confusion on her face as she tried to get her shaky bearings. Purple watched her with a cautious curiosity for a few moments as Kez ran her free hand up over her face in pained discomfort when her wife struggled with which way to go, changing direction a few times before a self-satisfied, wholly smug grin flashed over her pearly teeth.

"Ha. See, Kez? I told you I was getting better at all this." She gave herself a resolute, ecstatic nod and patted her friend lightly over his sharp collarbone. "Oh, wait…you don't know, _do_ you?"

Purple shook his head, growing nervously uneasy with the lack of response he was getting before Kez piped up to help. "Honey, he shook his head." She leaned against the guardrail when Teem lit up with a sudden understanding, her antennae flicking down into her little wife's squeaky voice. "You'll have to speak up, dear, so she can hear you." She clarified gently, stretching forward on her toes to brush a warm-hearted, kindly palm over his flushed cheek.

"_Hear_ me?" He repeated under his breath, swallowing his anticipation when he was gradually coming to terms with the decisive lack of once bright light shining behind Teem's now dull, murky ocular lenses. "Teem, what happened to you? Can you," he paused in discomfort, trying to mull over what to ask before trailing off, "um…can you…?"

Teem flashed a soft smile towards the wall and giggled, seemingly unperturbed by her life-changing situation as her friend unknowingly stared up at her from below. "Let's just say things will be sorta different for me now." She murmured peaceably, sensing the still obviously discomfited atmosphere before huffing in annoyance. "Ugh, you and Red are both so thick. He didn't get it at first either."

"Would you just tell me?" Purple hissed through the darkness, his urgency spiking when Kez retracted her consoling touch and instead moved to reassuringly rub circles into her partner's arm as she grew jittery and unsteady on her bare feet. "What did they do to you? What happened?"

Teem's smile faded to be replaced with something much more serene and accepting, knowing there was no way to run from her fate as she cleared her throat and confirmed the worst of Purple's dire fears.

"I'm blind."

* * *

**Stads Hospital; First Floor Psychiatric Unit; Room 260;**

It had been decided that Lard Nar needed special psychiatric attention following the traumatic stress he had unfortunately been subjected to, moving him away from his family for a few hours as his precarious mental status was thoroughly evaluated by a kindhearted psychoanalyst and his missing finger was tended to by a male medical drone with a genial smile. His whole body ached terribly when they had moved him to his own hospital bed amidst sterile smelling equipment to allow his bruised internal organs to recover from the brain-rattling crash he had unfortunately caused at the Spike of Judgement. He wasn't allowed to scan through readers to find news about the status of Judgementia, Irk, or Vort, and he was to be under surveillance for several hours until he was given the all-clear to move off and reunite with those he loved the most.

He'd asked a few times about his casual girlfriend, Flich, but no one would tell him anything about her whereabouts until his official psychiatrist arrived, leaving him be to have a few moments to himself to stare up at the ceiling as he attempted not to think for once.

_These guys all think you're crazy, you know. We both know the truth. _

Pem's lilting, haunting voice bounced through his racing thoughts like a breeze, shattering the short-lived tranquility as Lard Nar reached for another pillow and practically smothered himself with it, groaning into the plush fabric as he willed himself to calm. No. He was dead. He wasn't here anymore.

Pem can't hurt you anymore. Pem can't hurt you. He'll leave as soon as the distress blows over. But…what if it never blew over? What if the trauma had imprinted itself so deeply on Lard Nar's soul that Pem would heal over with him like a scar never to be forgotten? Please, no. Please…if he had to wake up to that horrendous, sickening voice every day he wasn't sure what he would do. He had to go away. Yeah, he would go away soon. He had to.

_Come on, you don't really believe that do you? I'll always be with you. I love you._

"You don't know what love is." He grumbled into his cloth prison, swallowing his annoyance when he realized he was talking to nothing but a figment of his own broken imagination kicking into hyperdrive and keeping him trapped in everything he feared.

_I know what love is. My love is you._

Stop it….stop it! Lard Nar was sure Pem would have gone away after his grisly death, taking every opportunity he could during the war to try and hunt him down with Red and put an end to the soul-crushing misery he had thrust upon him against his will. He had watched Pem plummet to his forty-story suicide drop and crunch on the frigid metal of the streets below as his blood splattered under his lifeless body. He had come to in the Spike of Judgement when Sledhob's advance had sent a rescue pod to the massive hole in the pinnacle to retrieve their team and had glimpsed the carnage in the boulevard below from the ship. A furious, bloodthirsty group of Inquisitorian soldiers had set Pem's body ablaze to incinerate him beyond recognition as they cackled and laughed at his fall.

He was dead…he was dead….he was _dead_!

_Dead? Nah. Dead isn't sexy enough. I prefer the term phantom._

Shut up.

_And I'll be here for the rest of your long, beautiful life._

Shut up!

_To terrorize and hold you close when everyone forgets you and realizes the failure you've always been._

"Shut up!"

Lard Nar flew up from where he had been reclining, chucking his pillow irately across the room as he shouted wildly at the ghostly, disturbing accent of his deceased nemesis, freezing when he locked eyes with a short, petite Inquisitorian woman with a clipboard staring back at him with a wide-eyed gawk.

"Oh, pardon me, am I interrupting something?" She piped up, running her long feelers over her firm clipboard as she blinked non-judgmentally. She averted her gaze to the floor when Lard Nar struggled to find the words to speak, stumbling inelegantly over his sentence as he grappled with the terror in his head and his nervously slipping grip on true reality. "Why don't I give you some more time to yourself, then, lovely?"

Lovely? She called him lovely? Strange, but alright.

At the sound of her soft, soothing chime of a voice, Lard Nar fervently shook his head and went to sling his long, needle-like feet over the edge of his bed through the guardrail. "A-Ah! No, please, don't go." He stammered uneasily, biting back the urge to run and hide when the sweet-faced woman glanced back up with a grin. "Are you the psychiatrist they sent?"

She took a few steps forward on delicate feet, treading carefully and bringing with her a strange, uncanny atmosphere dripping with comforting peace and cozy warmth. "Yes. My name is Dr. Bal Sintini, but feel free to call me by Sintini. I like t better than all that professional nonsense." She reached out for a stool and pulled it close, plopping down with a hospitable giggle before rooting carefully through the slew of medical papers pulled from Lard Nar's criminal case on Irk. "Wow, you used to have quite the reputation, huh? And an impressive military history…hmmm."

Lard Nar felt himself slowly thawing in her affectionate presence, admiring the freshly pressed lab coat draped over her pale cerulean skin and the bright yellow, fashion abomination of a top glaring back at him and hurting his sensitive eyes. He returned his gaze to her wide, inquisitive cherry eye gleaming in the florescent light behind her single lensed, clear goggle as she hummed to herself and read over a few statements, absorbing massive ribbons of personal information as her intelligent mind worked to pick apart his.

"So," She moved the documents to his bedside table and crossed her legs tenderly, careful not to flip up the hem of her long orange skirt, "I don't want to begin with all of the things you already know. I'm not going to probe you for information that you don't want to give, or make you talk at all if you don't want to."

Lard Nar frowned, leaning forward against the guardrail as he listened closely, thoroughly captivated and intrigued by the weird, mousy woman he had never met before. Had they never met? She was so comforting and easy to pay attention to that he momentarily doubted himself before shaking the silly notion from his pointless recollections. No, he would have remembered her.

Sintini continued, itching to get to the crux of her important visit. "I'm here to help you, as cliché as that sounds, but I want you to feel completely comfortable with me first. I never understood how other psychologists just expect their patients to open up and talk freely about their deepest worries and fears if they don't even know you first, so I want you to talk about whatever you'd like, and keep whatever you don't want to talk about a secret until we're better acquainted." Her mandibles shivered in delight when she noticed the blatant interest painted across her patient's cheeks as she spoke, bringing her long feelers together and rubbing them enthusiastically in her lap. "Is that alright with you?"

It had been so long since someone had asked him that. "I suppose." He mumbled plainly, eyeing her suspiciously when she adjusted her thin-rimmed goggle over her gargantuan eye and grinned an imperfect smile.

"Great! I'll start! I said my name is Bal Sintini, but I only go by Sintini because my family name makes me uncomfortable. I'm 415 cycles old, I used to be married and have a 49 cycle old daughter named Bal Strata who's just a peach to be around…um…I like the color yellow and I love chocolate even though I'm trying to lose weight. Diets, you know? They're crazy hard these days!" She stopped her incessant rambling long enough to take a gasp of a breath before letting lose another torrent of dizzying personal information Lard Nar hadn't necessarily asked for, but found himself strangely intrigued with. "I'm the head psychiatrist for this unit and I just really wanna help people find the root of their pain so we can move away from it together. Oh! I really liked biology in school and I secretly wanna learn how to fly a ship but that's way too scary for me."

She finally stopped and Lard Nar burst out in a round of uncharacteristic laughter at how jittery and comedic her fast-paced ramble was, reeling himself back in quickly when she blinked in surprise and cracked a surprising laugh in response. "Scary? Flying isn't scary when you know what to do. It's beautiful." He finally responded through his mirth, easing into the fluffy air of the conversation.

"Yeah, but I don't know what to do." She jabbed back with a snicker. "I read in your file that you used to be a rebel Captain for Vort. Does that mean you used to fly a lot?"

Lard Nar rested his chin in the crook of his elbow, immediately letting up when he remembered the nasty bite wound Pem had inflicted him with. "Yes, I've flown my fair share of ships." He blinked, remembering something the flighty doctor might find interesting. "Actually, I used to be on an engineering team for Almighty Tallest Miyuki before the war and I helped design the Massive."

Sintini's jaw dropped in over exaggerated shock as she leaned forward atop her creaking seat to get a better look, blinking behind her concave lens as her poor eyesight filtered out the light of the room and finally landed back on her fascinating new friend. "Nuh-uh!" She accused with a gentle tease, leaning back when Lard Nar bit his lip and looked down with a faint smile. "_You_ got to help design the infamous Massive?"

He nodded and tried not to let his reflating ego shine through his quickly fading discomfort, nearly forgetting about his arch nemesis altogether in favor for the inexplicably fascinating woman tenderly picking his brain with legitimate wonder. He felt his smile slip when the twitch in his hands resurfaced, alerting him to his dire need to suck disgusting ash into his battered lungs. How long had it been since his last cigarette? Days?

"Yeah, yeah, I got to help design the Massive." His voice became abruptly agitated when he swiftly realized he was slipping into a kindhearted fantasy, internally groaning at the false compassion he nearly let himself fall victim to. This woman was a doctor; nothing more than a vessel for research and advancement of the medical field. She didn't truly care about his needs or his wants, putting up an act he almost believed in a desperate, overinflated attempt to get him to talk so she could crack his case and move on to the next unfortunate patient in the line. "You can drop the impressive stage play now. I know your boss probably set you up to this, but I don't want to be treated like a child."

Sintini blinked and immediately let herself frown, going for her clipboard once more with a sigh of defeat and a hot grumble under her breath at having been so rudely found out. "Damn. My colleagues said you would most likely respond best to kindhearted affection. I guess we won't be getting anywhere that way." She mumbled despondently as she flipped disheartently through several sheets of paper before rolling her large eye in irritation and halfway giving up on the technical side of her mission. She stood and dug into her pocket with a bitterness not unlike Lard Nar's own, tugging free a mouthwatering carton of cheap Inquisitorian cigarettes and flashing them brashly for him to clearly see. "You know what, screw it. Screw this hospital and all these rules thinking they can put patients in boxes and evaluate you like this. You wanna come smoke with me and _actually_ talk without all the weird psychological bullshit they want me to do to you?"

Lard Nar sat back up, his wavering attention immediately peaked. "You mean talk like people?" He shrunk away slightly when she strode forward and helped him to undo the guardrail and slide it to the side. "Wha-"

_She's tricking you, Lard Nar. She's getting in your head. All she wants to do is break you down so you'll talk like the rest of her pathetic patients, but you're not crazy. They're crazy for thinking you're crazy. I'm in your head, so what? It's not like someone like her can ever give you more satisfaction than I can. You need to take control before she controls you._

Pem's urgent warning shot through his chest like a bullet as the therapist gently urged him on with the false promise of cigarettes, setting alight a warring flame searing at his already confused consciousness as he reached up on impulse and shoved her away.

_Yeah, that's it. Take control._

"No! I'm not falling for any more of your games!" He hopped down from his bed and felt every muscle in his body groan in protest when he infuriatingly followed the now horrified doctor back to the door as she shoved the empty carton back in her pocket and swallowed nervously. "I'm not crazy! I want off of this floor and back with my family, now! There's nothing you can do to help me here. My brother can help me!"

Sintini dropped her idiotic act for the second time, resorting to her true personality and frantically trying to keep hold of the situation as Lard Nar unraveled dangerously below her. "Please, Lard Nar, we _are_ here to help you. We have reason to believe that your traumatic contact with the Vortian terrorist Pem Goor has placed you under a great deal of psychological stress and-"

"And you lying to me and trying to force me to speak isn't putting me under more?!" He shouted vehemently, earning the bewildered attention of a few uneasy medical drones freezing in the hallway outside. "All you're doing is making me question my reality more! I need to talk to Red!"

Sintini threw her body in the doorway and panicked, calling over her shoulder for help, ignoring his frantic despair in favor of her meager security training. "Nurse! I need a nurse! Bring sedative to room-"

_Take control._

Lard Nar shook his head in mounting, dizzying alarm, throwing the doctor hard to the ground without thinking before tearing off down the hallway as she shouted distressingly after him. No. No, no, no, no, no, no, please, no! He rounded corners and bumped gracelessly into stretchers and meandering nurses as he stumbled in a maddening fugue leftover from his ferocious time in in battle, ignoring their cries of horrified fright as they tried to pursue and stop him in his tracks. He used his diminutive size to his advantage, bobbing and weaving around clamoring legs to grab for the safety door keeping the psych unit closed off from the rest of the small hospital. He tugged fervently on the handle and gasped when he felt it hold firm, glancing up at the keypad with wide eyes as he frantically ran over how he could possibly make his grand escape and make it back to his family. He needed them. He needed them more than anything. He tried with all his might to stretch up on his toes to reach the pad, cursing hotly under his breath when he remained a few frustrating feet below his intended target, yelping when Sintini rounded the corner and called out to him.

"Please, Captain, you're not in your right mind at the moment!" She reassured with as much sweetness as she could muster. "We aren't here to hurt you! You're having a PTSD episode and just need to take a few deep breaths, alright? I promise, you're safe here; you're not in the war anymore and Pem Goor can't hurt you."

_Take control._

"Leave me alone!" Lard Nar screamed back at both Pem and the psychiatrist, reaching for a nearby crash cart and throwing open the sanitary drawers, tossing medical supplies haphazardly about as his false captors grew tentatively near and tried to approach his precarious meltdown with as much professionalism as they could.

No. No. Nothing made sense anymore. Where was he? Why? Why _what_? What was he even questioning anymore? He smelled phantom blood, saw horrific, grisly images of Pem's body laying broken on the metal of the sidewalk, watched as he burned in his makeshift funeral pyre. He felt the trigger beneath his finger as he shot Red in the shoulder, felt the heat of Sledhob's fire pouring from the tip of his spear, heard the earsplitting scream of warning bells crying out as he crashed viciously into the side of the Spike of Judgement. He felt his rationality slipping when the disgustingly nauseating feeling of Pem's chilly lips landing against his resurfaced, pushing him over the edge as the horrendous feeling ate at his sane judgement and dragged him down further into his spiraling PTSD attack. He felt himself begin to hyperventilate, glancing over his shoulder at the clear glass of the window across the corridor before hatching a terrifying idea. He grabbed a heavy defibrillator from the cart before tearing past Sintini and her team of petrified nurses, throwing the brutish device with all his might at the glass and covering the side of his face with his bare hands as shards rained back and skidded across the floor.

Sintini had no choice, diving for her patient before he expertly smacked her upside the jaw and made for the now open window, scrambling in a frenzy through the jagged frame to the soft grass below before pushing himself up and forcing himself on through the beating sun of the Inquisitorian summer burning and clawing at his skin as he cried.

He had to get away from here.

He had to get away from here.

He had to get away from here.

Lard Nar gasped in dismayed astonishment when the sputtering of powerful thrusters erupted from above, knocking him to his back as a gargantuan, navy blue flagship slowly threw out it's landing gear and descended. The sheer force of the supersonic blast bruised his groaning ribs, bringing him back to the present as he curled into himself and bawled over the realization of how broken he had become. Why? Why did he do this to himself? Why couldn't he just forget? When would he move on?

He refused to look when the telltale fazing of a mechanical set of stairs descended sluggishly from the main hatch, followed by the clink of needle-like feet trailing down the smooth metal and trudging slowly across the grass. Lard Nar finally peeled his teary gaze open when he was overshadowed with a tall, lean figure blocking out the harsh sunlight, blinking in the artificial shade when he realized who it was.

Sledhob stared down in utter confusion, his two twin sons balanced expertly on either shoulder as they innocently quarreled with one another and toyed childishly with his gaudy, jewel encrusted headpiece.

"Captain Lard Nar," He began with a bit of skeptical unease, stooping down to set his two children free over the lawn as his plain, relatively undecorated wife called after them with a light scold, "are you quite alright?"

Lard Nar broke down in another round of pathetically soft crying and covered his face with his bare, trembling hands, the salt of his tears stinging at the still healing wound from his missing finger. "N-No! I'll never be alright! I-I…I-I…" He lost his voice to the powerful, body wracking sobs swallowing him whole and gave up completely when Sledhob brushed a knowing feeler over his shoulder. "I-I need to talk to Red…o-or…I don't know! I can't trust the doctors! They think I'm crazy! I-I'm not crazy!"

Sledhob nodded with surprising sympathy, helping to tug his comrade to his precariously wobbling feet as he finally set him upright and stabilized him with his tibial spines. He glanced lovingly back over his shoulder to his wife, flashing her a haughty smile. "Sariah my darling, would you watch the boys for a little while? I feel that the Captain needs a bit of experienced wartime advice."

Sariah nodded unquestioningly. "Of course, dear." She rang back smoothly before taking off after their two rowdy sons wrestling in the grass and smacking playfully at one another.

Lard Nar looked up and squinted against the renewed intensity of the light as the Prime Minister ushered him along gently into his flagship to have a slow, thoughtful talk with him about the horrors and aftereffects of mind-numbing war.

"I-I'm not crazy."

"I know you're not, my boy. I know."

* * *

**Stads Hospital; Fourth Floor Multi-Species Unit; Room 39;**

"Please don't make a big deal out of it…" Teem sighed depressingly, feeling Purple latch back on to her hand as she grazed his knuckles lovingly with her thumb. "I'm sorta on the edge with it all and…I don't know. Everyone's been freaking out and I don't need it from you, either."

"How?" Purple whispered in disbelief, becoming disgustingly aware of his friend's deadened stare. "You have updated ocular lenses, so how is that even possible?"

Teem cleared her throat when Kez toyed with her silken hospital gown tied loosely around her waist to give her razed chest air to breathe, readjusting it so she wouldn't accidentally flash the whole of the floor. "Well…I don't know how much you know so I'm going to tell you everything."

Teem fervently recounted her crash landing and the life-changing actions Red had graciously gifted her with to save her very existence, waiting for Purple to audibly respond before she would pause or continue and relying on the weight of his grip to properly gauge his reactions. Purple learned of the dogfight and Utna's crash, of Red becoming trapped on Vort in Vortian Prison Camp 4 with Lard Nar, of Teem's terrible plasma shot to the PAK through the steel door of the IRM's flagship, and of forcible rape his beautiful friend was subjected to in her final moments of sickening, absolutely appalling consciousness. She didn't remember much after that but agonizing pain and blood loss, and had only found out when she woke up in the hospital that Red had sacrificed his PAK functioning to save her own on in a last ditch effort to heroically keep her pulse thumping through her body.

"Unfortunately, my PAK still isn't repaired completely, so I have to be hooked to whatever that weird thing is that Kez is probably holding. Because of the damage, my ocular center was destroyed completely. But at least that means I won't have to see your ugly mug anymore." Teem snorted derisively, trying to add humor back to the soul-crushing nature of the conversation when she felt Purple twitch nervously under her touch.

Purple thought a moment, trying to pull out whatever meager medical knowledge he actually knew before coming to a shaky conclusion. "But wait, if you get your ocular systems repaired, will you be able to see again?" He asked with a genuine hope for an answer he expected to receive, feeling it die completely when Teem shook her head in sorrowful complacency.

"My biological eyes have been offline for more than twenty-four hours now." She mumbled out her explanation, sharing the devastating information for the hundredth time and not really wanting to relive her unfortunate diagnosis. "The doctors here said the longer they're offline, the more cells in my eyes will die. We can't import new systems from Irk right now because the whole planet is rioting now that the Control Brains are gone, so I'll probably be blind for the rest of my life." She shook the fringes of overpowering sadness from her shivering shoulders and held up her walking stick. "But hey, look, I have a whack-em-stick now so you better watch out because I'll be coming for you if you piss me off."

Purple couldn't bring himself to laugh when he noticed the clear distress smeared over Kez's face as she threatened to lose her threadbare control over her swelling emotions, staring up longingly at her wife with a profound affection that was unsurmounted in his mind.

"I'm sorry, Teem."

"Why?"

"For…for _this_."

"Ugh, shut up. I'm blind, not broken. Don't talk to me like I can't do anything anymore, asshole."

"Sorry…"

"And quit apologizing, it's annoying."

"A-Ah! Ok! I'm sorr-…I mean yeah that's fine."

Teem let a tiny smile crack back on her face at her companion's pathetic attempts to save face, her irritation melting away when she remembered something incredible she had neglected to previously mention. "So, I was wondering something." She stopped a moment, apprehensive to continue on with the weighty question hanging on her tongue as she danced around the mysterious issue. "What now?"

Purple ran his palm gently over Red's under their plush comforter, surprised at how deeply he was still managing to sleep in the thick of their escalating banter. What now? What was that supposed to mean? Purple hadn't really thought that far; all he had been concerned about over the past six months was training himself into oblivion so he would be prepared to tackle the now destroyed menace that was Pem and take the Control Brains offline with his skills as a mechanic. Oh no. He felt a slow creeping panic inch up through his ravaged spooch and bloom into something raw and visceral as Teem's discomfiting, horrific question ricocheted back and forth in his weary mind. What _was_ he going to do now? Where was he going to go? What about his home planet and the future of Vort? His purpose was fulfilled and his mission had been a shaky, and somewhat pathetically feeble, success, leaving him without any form of an MO to keep him on his feet in the rickety aftermath. He and Red had hastily eloped in the thick of battle and he knew that he wanted to plan out an actual, beautiful wedding for them both, but he didn't know where that would happen. They undoubtedly couldn't stay on Inquisitoria; it wasn't their home planet and wouldn't be fair to Sledhob to continue using his own private funds to feed them, but without a firm occupation and Irk rioting violently in the streets without a Tallest to quench the confusion, there was now way he and Red would ever make it on their own.

Tallest.

Purple felt himself sink at the mention of the word he swore to himself would never again grace his lips, uncomfortably shifting in his husband's arms when his racing thoughts began to fixate on the title he had been forced to take in the first place. He had grown to adore being Tallest over time; the opulence, the money, the status and the undeniably vigorous power he held in his once power hungry hands was all worth it for about a hundred cycles until he almost watched his partner die violently in the horrific gravity and sickening reality jumps of the Florpus. It stopped being worth it when Red's precious life was placed on the line as a filthy scapegoat to Pem and their former mechanical dictators, and when he had found out that their seemingly infinite rule had all been a carefully disguised, manipulative rouse to mask the true wills of The Collective to enslave them all. In a way, he was never Tallest to begin with, only an uninhabited, hollow puppet with his valuable memories obliterated without his consent to be used and used and used until he was thrown away like worthless garbage or assassinated by the millions of enemies he had made across the cosmos. What if the public of Irk asked them to step back up and reclaim their original positions when they finally had their collective memories back? He pulled his hand away from Teem's comforting fingers and rolled painfully onto his side to stare completely at Red through the low light, tracing his eyelids down to his tranquil lips when he felt a sudden, alarming fear rise in his exhausted chest and cause his pulse to lurch at the realization that he didn't want to say out loud.

He didn't _want_ to be Tallest anymore.

After all of the heartbreak, the agonizing physical torture, the late night stressors and mountainous piles of paperwork, and the threats of the media bogging him down for over a hundred grueling cycles he was ready to resign completely and let someone else ascend. He reached out and placed a warm palm against Red's still cheek, dragging his IV station with him and causing Teem to yelp when it brushed her arm unexpectedly. He was a husband now and his priorities had changed completely from a full cycle ago; he wanted to settle down with Red on their extraordinary home planet and find their own slice of domestic paradise together somehow somewhere. He wanted to have a physical ceremony to solidify their rushed marriage and find newer, better jobs they would both wholly enjoy that weren't terrifyingly deadly to their wellbeing, to wake up next to his raunchy, loud-mouthed husband in his own bed at the end of the day after doing what he wanted to do. But how? He didn't have any money, any land, or any concept of how to live on his own. Purple had gone straight from the Smeetery in Veloria to the Academy where he was fed and cared for all through his long, extensive training. From there he graduated and was immediately transferred to the Massive for his impressive talents, earning a meager paycheck and half-starving on mess hall provisions while his superiors maintained his schedule and told him where he should be when he should be there. Even as Tallest, he didn't have any concept of true freedom, bouncing from packed conference halls filled to the brim with reporters and advisors, to canon sweeps over unfortunate planets deemed to die by the Control Brains. He was somewhat free now, but he had never truly, wholly lived on his own as his own man, relying on the help of the system even on Inquisitoria to keep him afloat in his desperate, appalling lack of direction.

He was poor, he was confused, and he was terrified; but he was determined never to go back to that life for the sake of his marriage and his own sanity.

"I won't be Tallest anymore." He said suddenly, letting his fingers trail lightly down his partner's cheekbone before he pulled away completely. "I'm married now. I have to-"

"Wait…You're _married_?!" Teem screamed out suddenly with a high pitched screech, piercing Purple's antennae and causing his blood pressure to skyrocket when Red nearly came unglued next to him and pushed himself halfway over the guardrail, shooting out of the bed and flying to his feet at the unexpected, strident sound and practically tripping over himself as he yelled.

"Red, calm down!" Purple stuttered, flinching at the awful mix of Teem giggling ceaselessly like a ridiculous smeet and his partner droning on ruthlessly through his catlike reflexes. "Hey, hey, you're fine!"

"Fuck! Don't do that!" Red cried back through the chaos, throwing his hands up to clutch at his panting chest and will his erratic pulse to calm. "Dammit, Teem, you almost gave me a stroke!"

"Answer me, you assholes!" Teem bellowed excitedly, ignoring her friend's sudden outburst, bouncing a bit where she stood and reaching down to cling ecstatically to her wife's shoulder as she beamed brighter than the sun. "Are you actually married or are you messing with me?!"

Purple looked back over his shoulder to where his rattled partner stood heaving in the dark, locking eyes with him and drawing a small, shaky smile from his deescalating terror. "We eloped." He chuckled with a warm, eager adoration, wincing again when Teem screamed out her antennae-splitting enthusiasm and clutched fervently at the guardrail.

"Oh. My. Irk! Bachelor Red finally found someone dumb enough to marry him and I wasn't there to see it either!? That's so unfair! You have to have another wedding ceremony and invite me too so I can listen to you guys get all gushy and gross with each other over your cute little vows!" She threw her head back and cackled immaturely when Red fumbled with the opposite guardrail, slinging it away and plopping down on the edge of the bed before crossing his arms hotly over his chest to sulk about his peaceful sleep being completely destroyed against his will. He went to say something before Teem cut him off again, wiping her misting dead eyes on the back of her hand as she threatened dangerously to cry. "Kez and I also wanted to propose something to you guys, now that you're both up. I wanted to tell Lard Nar at the same time, but I don't think he's been cleared yet to come up here, so I'm just gonna say it now and hope he'll be down for it, too."

"Only if you don't scream again." Red grumbled, glancing down at his reclining partner and shifting his weight back across the firm mattress to press back into him, wrapping an overprotective arm across Purple's chest as he closed his eyes despite his exasperation. "Geez, just say it so I can go back to sleep." He grumbled irritatingly, pressing his cheek up against his lovers as he frowned childishly.

This time Kez chimed in with a wide, unruly beam tinged with a bit of uncertainty, leaning forward on the balls of her feet when she attempted to figure out where to start. "So, we've all become a family, right?"

Purple nodded against Red's skin, fighting off a giddy smile when he felt a light kiss land against his cheekbone. "Yeah, I guess." He giggled into the fleeting touch, eating up the beautifully affectionate attention and purring into the glory of having Red finally all to himself.

Kez ignored their blatant display of love, continuing on with her momentous, serious proposal. "Teem still has her pension on Irk and I still have my retirement funds stowed away, so we were…well…we were wondering if you…Well we know that you both don't really have a place to go anymore. So, while you get back on your feet would you...ah...like to..."

Teem picked up when Kez faltered, taking a deep, assertive inhale and blurting out the damming question. "We were wondering if you wanted to come and live with us like a real family. No bullshit. I'm gonna need help now that I'm disabled and I can't let Kez man the bar all to herself so I wanted to offer you both jobs while you figure out what you wanted to do with your lives."

Red froze, ceasing his barrage of devoted, amorous warmth to let his stunned gaze snap back open and stare up at his now sightless companion, narrowing his eyes in suspicion as he vaulted between the two and back to Purple. "Wait, you mean like live with you at the _bar_? And work under you as my boss?" He stuttered, holding his partner's eye contact as he too remained static in astonished disbelief. "Woah, woah, woah, I don't know if that's a good idea. Our mission isn't over yet and we have a duty to Irk to fix this whole mess we've gotten ourselves into. We can't just leave the public out there to riot, and no one else living besides Purple and I has any kind of experience with leading the planet." He explained fiercely in mounting impatience that his long-time friend would think that all their problems would simply disappear now that their leaders were dead. In reality, they had only just begun. "Do you know how crazy it would be for us to just go out and live in the forest like hippies?"

Kez visibly deflated and huddled in to Teem's leg as she averted her infinitely hurt gaze to the ground, uncomfortable with the sudden anger in her adopted brother's tone. "Oh…um…yeah. Ok." She said plainly, scrunching up her face and grabbing for Teem's hand as she tugged her along through the shadows before she burst into tears. "I-I understand your decision. I'm sorry we decided to ask! It was a stupid thing to propose!"

Teem turned back and tried to make some semblance of coherent eye contact as her distraught wife pulled her aimlessly along and threw open the door as she began to sob, frowning in disappointment to who she hoped was Red and wanting to sear him for being so ignorant. "Look, just think about it would you? What do you have to lose at this point, huh? We're offering you a new start because you literally have nothing; no job, no home, no funds, nothing, so don't yell at my wife like that. We'll love you both no matter what you decide but please, just _think_ for once!" She retorted irately, reaching out for the door handle and missing, instead clipping the edge of the frame and slamming the panel shut to leave her two best friends behind in the now eerie silence of the dark.

Red grumbled something against Purple's cheek as he went to let himself drift back into his coveted slumber, groaning with an infantile whine when Purple finally managed to push himself up to a sit. He clutched firmly at his side when his abdomen spasmed under his bandages, clenching his teeth as his PAK rushed to send powerful sedatives to the area and numb his searing, blistering pain.

"Pur, you need to lay down." Red's voice shifted from one of disappointment to benevolent, tender concern as he reached out and rubbed lightly at his partner's forearm. "Don't worry about things like that right now and rest for once. Please?"

Purple shook his head with a muted, emotional sigh, glancing off into the murky distance when Red reluctantly pushed up to meet him and rubbed gentle, caring circles into his thigh through their blankets. "I'm so happy you're ok." Purple mumbled dotingly under his breath, changing the softening mood quickly to meet his husband's lips with his own and catching him completely off guard to the unexpected, ethereal kiss.

Red's annoyed, harsh disposition dissipated into the air like sizzling steam, shattering completely as he oozed into a gooey concoction of devoted worship and longing relief that his whole world was going to recover from the insane, mind-numbing mauling he had been forcibly subjected to on the frigid streets of Judgementia. He moved forward, letting Purple drag him back down and feeling his partner's loving, infinitely gorgeous touch snake up under his arms to capture him completely in the beauty of the soothing, weightless moment of pure adoration blossoming between them. They were no longer oceans apart, there were no more treacherous political canyons to leap or terrifyingly desolate campaigns to mount in retaliation to a government that had never cared for them. There was simply this, the unbelievably peaceful sensation of infatuated, heartfelt hands fluttering up over scarred chests and tracing back down over obliterated, slowly regenerating waists as the rhythm of pulses synced and slowed in the remarkable, otherworldly feeling of untainted bliss. Purple broke their deep, unrestricted kiss too soon, giggling receptively when Red refused to give up without a fight and smirked back along his cheek down to his jawline, peppering limitless little acts of reverence over his pale skin as he halfheartedly put up a front to push him off.

"Don't ever leave me again." Red breathed between his untamed desire, finally giving in to his partner's wishes and moving away just long enough to get completely lost in his fragile, gorgeous eye color.

"You shouldn't have made Kez cry." Purple said suddenly without warning, knowing he had Red at his most venerable and hoping he would listen now that he had buttered him up enough to his ulterior motive. "That wasn't right, Red. They offered to give us a place to stay and you just brushed them off like a prick. Honestly, we should probably start thinking about what we're going to do now that this whole thing is over."

Red rolled his eyes and flopped down on his back with an annoyed groan. "It's not my fault she wanted to suggest something so insane. I already know what we need to do. We have to get back out there and sort through this whole mess before our people rip each other apart in the anarchy. Veloria will burn unless we take our rightful place and give them someone to follow." He muttered back, refusing to fight back when Purple struggled to lean back in, taking his jaw in his gentle grip and turning him tenderly to face him. "What? Don't look at me like that."

"You should say sorry." Purple half demanded before stealing another quick peck to his deep-set frown, satisfied when the beginnings of uncomfortable remorse began to leak from Red's sometimes unpleasant temperament.

Red stared his partner down for a few seconds before caving and glancing to the side when he grudgingly realized he was unfortunately right. "Ugh, fine. I'll say sorry. Happy now?" He snapped unenthusiastically, trying not to let his lover see he had won him over to little avail, squeezing his eyes shut and scowling into his loving, heartwarming touch.

Purple stared at him for a long while, squishing his cheeks between his hands as he tried to get Red to open his eyes and look at him, letting another childish laugh loose when he held firm and powered through the adorable torture, trying to shy away and flip over but finding himself tactlessly stuck in Purple's vice-like hold. He eventually let up when Red evened their score, immediately opening his eyes as soon as his partner let go just to spite him. Purple opened his mouth to lovingly reopen their famous, tantalizing banter, feeling himself quickly remember the damming conversation he had shared with Teem only a half an hour before. He blinked and let his demeanor shift into an elusively unsure, paling suggestion that he knew would probably clash with Red's strong, hardheaded personality and cause a proverbial firestorm of gnashing words and irate accusations.

He still didn't want to be Tallest anymore...but what about Red? His partner had made it clear what his stance was on the matter, refusing to back down in the face of adversity like the strong, brave Irken he had always been. Purple was incredibly conflicted, thinking quickly over his rapidly diminishing options for how to handle and balance his own wishes with the desires of his husband. He couldn't just walk away from the planet, but he couldn't go back to being its almighty figurehead either. Living with Teem and Kez would give them a much needed opportunity to grow and earn a steady paycheck before they ventured out into the unknown together, but for some reason Red refused to see it that way. Not to mention they would be able to sleep in a physical bed instead of some shady cot somewhere. Oh, Irk, why was this so hard?

"What's wrong?" Red asked suddenly, pulling back in subtle confusion when Purple clicked his teeth anxiously and attempted to keep his wavering composure.

They had only just come together…he didn't want to drive them apart. Purple would have to think about this strategically or risk the worst detonation of viscous hatred and loathing disappointment he would probably ever see from his perplexed partner.

"Red?"

"Yeah?"

"Um…I want you to say what makes you happy without thinking."

"Why?"

Purple broke his intense crimson stare and clutched nervously at their blankets, wringing the taut fabric between his uneasy, nervous fingers when Red moved in like a steely, concentrated predator stalking its oblivious prey. "Because I want to know what your answer is. Don't think, just say it."

"Flying." Red said simply when he decided to play along, letting the word cascade off of his tongue and remaining completely unsurprised to his own resolute, completely sure response. "I guess being a pilot is where I feel most at home." He scrunched up his face in skeptical bewilderment and eyed Purple closely when as he gave a tiny, shaky nod of halfhearted acceptance. "Where are you going with this, Pur?"

Purple hesitated and took a deep, uneven breath, feeling his bruised ribs groan against his troublesome stitches when his PAK beeped out a sudden warning to remedy his horrid physical issue once more. "I'm happiest as a mechanic." His voice was subdued and barely audible over the steady drip of his glucose IV, leaving him completely petrified to continue when Red furrowed his brow and really started to examine the bizarre, uncharacteristic argument from unforeseen angles. "A-And…um…"

"And what?" Red didn't move, locked in place as he fought with the horrendously sinking feeling of the incredibly disturbing answer he already knew was looming over them like a thunderstorm. "And _what_, Pur?"

"Um….A-and I want to go live with Teem and Kez and…I don't want to be Tallest again."

* * *

There we have it folks! The official, unofficial last nail in the coffin for Purple's ties to being Tallest! How will Red react to this dastardly, shocking revelation? I'll see you again Wednesday for our next update! We're also getting down to the last several chapters here! I'm estimating that we will have about five left until we get to the exciting resolution I've planned!

Lots of people have been asking for oc voice headcanons so I'm working on that right now!

_**Next Update: Wednesday, November 20, 2019 at 10:00 CDT (UTC -5)! See you then!**_


	28. Ascension and Resignation

Welcome back lovelies to this episode of My Kind! I missed you all and I'm so excited you guys are continuing to enjoy this story as much as you are! Thank you for all of your incredible support and I want you to know that it makes me, super, super, SUPER happy!

**To the guest asking for sex scenes:** I can promise you there will be another explicit sex scene so yall just hold on to your hats and asses here. As far as Purple topping, I can't say much without giving anything away besides I think you will most likely enjoy what I have come up with! You can read into that however you'd like, lovely!

There's gonna be a _MAJOR_ bombshell dropped in this chapter that I've been waiting to drop since literally like chapter 18. I'M SO EXCITED! YOU'LL KNOW IT WHEN YOU READ IT!

**Chapter rated T for mentions of PTSD, allusions to undiagnosed mental issues/effects of trauma, brief heavy language, suggestive themes, and general adult themes.**

* * *

"What?" Purple swallowed cautiously when Red laboriously pushed himself up from where he had been sitting, sliding off the edge of the bed and standing in unnerving silence in the dark to stiffly pace with a sore limp around the perimeter of the room like a caged animal. His building anger and disappointment was almost palpable, tainting the once peaceful atmosphere and bringing it to a hot simmer around them as Purple watched his partner unbutton the top button of his gown for more air as he overheated. Uh oh. "Are you gonna say something, Red?"

Red didn't respond but instead took a deep, rigid breath, running his sharp claws along the gaudy sapphire wallpaper and feeling it crinkle under his fingertips and shred to nothing as he was lost to a deeply unsettling internal conflict with himself. He refused to make eye contact, completely awake at this point and obviously perturbed by Purple's life-changing, damming request for such a profound adjustment that neither of them was truly ready for. Well…at least one of them was ready. Purple had been ready for this for cycles but had been stuck in denial about what he was truly feeling in favor of staying by Red's side through the turmoil and horrendous political messes they traipsed through together. It was agonizing, exhausting, and too physically dangerous, not to mention the sheer boredom of rooting through mountains upon mountains of food requests from empires they had taken that Purple couldn't even remember or wartime propositions shoved down his throat by a gaggle of terrified advisors on the daily. And Red…Purple knew it wasn't good for his health. He was always so stoic and forlorn at his desk, munching away on insane amounts of junk food and sugar to try and pierce through the mind-numbing monotony and agonizing stress weighting down on his capable shoulders. It wasn't fair to him at his age, taking on the job of someone in their 100's and being expected to keep up with the rapidly changing times they were ushering into. This time, it had been them who had turned the clock on the era, bringing about a positive tidal wave of incredible transformation that swamped and flooded their former Empire and threw everything into a befuddled mess of roaring questions and violent riots in the wake of their citizens' lack of leadership. But, even if they _did_ decide to go back, Purple knew Red wouldn't be truly happy stuck behind the formality of high-class dress and the need to keep up an immaculate appearance for the blood-sucking masses. The near infinite, ruthless ability of the power behind the office was mouthwateringly tempting, but all it would ever get them was eight feet underground with a rebel's plasma shot between their eyes in their own gilded coffins or poisoned at a dinner conference with a rebellious empire they had supposedly wronged. Red was meant to be in the sky glaring out through a pilot's visor and his cocky hands wrapped around the clutch to powerful thrusters ready to rocket him out and beyond the stifling walls of a flagship or the monotonous chair of a formal, overly cluttered desk. He needed the space, needed the fresh air to fill his lungs, needed the hands on and dirty approach to life that painted the perfect vision of a flawlessly fractured smile on his face and took him away from the profound, bottomless pit of cavernous depression that followed ominously at his heels no matter where he ran.

Red was an aerospace pilot, not a stuffy statesman. He would never be happy as Tallest, so why couldn't he see that for himself?

"We have to pay for that wallpaper, you know." Purple mumbled bravely when he noticed the sheets of thin paper coming off in his partner's irate hands, trying not to flinch and holding his ground when Red's knife-like stare finally met his through the opaque shadows, sinking so far into his bruised flesh that he could practically feel it stabbing and raking at his stitches. He could tell his unhinged partner was holding back and biting his tongue, trying with every fiber of his rapidly unraveling being to keep himself cool while his rage melted away at his composure. "I swear to Irk, Red, we talked about this. Think about what you're gonna say before it comes out of your mouth." He warned dangerously, hoping to stunt Red's front before it reared its ugly head but only making things worse.

When Red finally spoke, his voice was surprisingly level and calm but unbelievably sinister and treacherous, prickling across Purple's skin as he let his nerve turn to suppurating irritation. "No. Don't talk to me like I'm a smeet." He slowly raised a steady finger in his partner's direction and narrowed his vivid eyes from across the room, glued in place as they engaged in a horrendous staring contest with one another.

"Come over here and sit down so we can talk about this without you getting all pissed off." Purple suggested firmly, trying not to focus on the increasing pain in his spine when Red stood stagnant in his corner to show off his awful, immature noncompliance like a glittering medal. "I just got back from war, I had to stand naked in front of Pem for hours, and I got shot in the ribs. I don't need you yelling at me right now over nothing!"

Red gave a scoff of a fake laugh, baring his teeth menacingly at the very thought that there was even anything to talk about in the first place. "Over _nothing_? This isn't nothing, Purple! You wanna raise your voice at me after saying something like that?" He shook his head and waited for an answer, striding back forward when Purple lost his power once more. "Did you really think, _really_ think, that all of our problems would just go away after we took the Control Brains offline? Who else out there is going to be able to rule our planet, huh?"

Purple blinked when Red stalked back to his side and leaned down against the guardrail, clutching at the smooth plastic and going white knuckled in the process. He thought a moment, running over Red's point in the pinnacle of his racing ideas and coming up short in a woozy, anesthesia fog. "Look, I think it's kind of stupid to assume we're the only two Irkens in the Empire that can actually rule it." He finally decided on. "There's lots of capable people out there that can step up and-"

"Oh, please!" Red nipped vehemently, pushing off the railing and continuing his feverish pacing across the dull room as he threw his hands out in front of him in incensed exasperation to his husband's feeble, maddening argument. "Like who?! You killed our entire advisory team when I was put on trial six months ago, remember? You left us without our chain of command to take over in the event that we could no longer hold office! Pem was practically running Irk for months and a new Tallest was never elected because of wartime preparations, so there's no telling how destroyed the infrastructure is at this point! I've read the report. Our people are breaking off in factions and fighting each other on the surface because no one is getting a paycheck, no one is able to afford food so they're stealing it, and everyone is fucking confused after learning the truth about The Collective! They're literally running around down there without any sense of direction and we need to be that for them before we don't have a society anymore!" He groaned, letting his own troubled misgivings shine through the appallingly gruesome tone of his vicious, heated shout. "We have to use what we already know after hundreds of cycles of leadership experience to fix the only place we're gonna be able to go back to! That's what _I_ fought for! What did you fight for?!"

Purple could help but feel a little taken aback at the strange, passive aggressive accusation that his own motives for fighting were outweighed by that of his distressed partner's. "_Excuse_ me?! I fought for Irk too and lost a lot of blood out there on Judgementia just for our planet so don't you dare try to insinuate that what I did was any less than you!" He let his slowly cracking voice escalate to a shout, allowing an unsteady hand fly to his gunshot when he felt a twinge of a sting resurface in his damaged skin. "But I also fought for you! I fought for you and I fought for our family! Teem, Kez, and Lard Nar are with us now whether you like it or not and I don't wanna lose that! I-I don't wanna lose _you_!"

"Listen to yourself, Purple! This is insane!" Red retorted crossly, not caring in the slightest if his vigorous, overly intense voice carried through the thin panel of the door and was heard through the long corridor. "Think about this for a minute! If we go and live with Teem and Kez right now and leave the planet to figure itself out, we're gonna end up with Veloria burned to the ground by anarchists and factions fighting over an imported food supply that isn't going to come! Our Empire is falling apart! Other planets are pulling away from Irken control by the thousands and taking resources with them that we need to survive, and there's nothing we can do about it at this point because we can't even import plasma cores to fuel the Armada to retaliate! We're sitting blind in the middle of the star-system and all we have is Inquisitoria and the joke Vort has become to back us up!" Red took a breath, growing anxiously twitchier by the second as he ran over the dastardly few possibilities, they had to restore their rapidly collapsing home world. "We have a duty to fix this!"

"Duty? Red, that's not your fault!" Purple pointed out, digging his fingers further into his stitches and hissing through his teeth when his PAK stopped flowing sedatives to the area in favor of attempting to quench his troubled mental state. "We need a place to stay on our own planet and we'd be stupid not to take Teem and Kez up on their offer! We can't figure anything out unless we have our own place and I'm not going to end up homeless and sleeping in front of the Tallest Tower on the ground all because you let your dumb ass pride get the best of you like you always do!" He stopped thinking rationally, letting his harsh, smarting words whip thought he dark and proverbially slap his husband across the face. He didn't care at this point and wanted it to hurt. "You're mentally unstable Red! You always have been, and you always will be so let me take the reins on this one! I don't wanna lose you and all that's gonna happen if we go back to being Tallest is you're going to make yourself sick from all the stress! I remember staying up late with you before all of this bullshit happened because you had insomnia and the job was getting to you, or you worked yourself up so bad over stupid little details that you would make yourself throw up! This is ridiculous and you know it!"

"Pur-"

"No, shut the hell up and listen to me for once in your life! You're getting older, Red! You're almost 352 and you should be wanting to settle down and do something with your life that doesn't involve us nearly dying on a weekly basis! I want my husband to live a normal life with me without having to worry about what anyone else thinks or tells us to do!" Purple explained desperately, trying with all his might to break through the tough, nearly impenetrable barrier Red had unwittingly forced up between them. "We were never Tallest to begin with! Everyone else always told us what to do and what to say to the public, all of our speeches were edited and became something else, and we were forced into a routine that we had to follow like robotic slaves and I don't want to go back to that! I want to be my own Irken for once! I wanna eat when I want, drink when I want, sleep when I want, and have a job that doesn't make me wanna blow my brains out or wait until some assassin does it for me! All being Tallest got you was addicted to drugs and a suicide attempt, and I can't stand the thought of you losing control like that again! Don't you wanna _live_?!"

"Pur I-"

Purple cruelly ignored him a second time, continuing his blind, blood-curdling rant as Red pressed his back further into the corner under the fiery inferno of an amethyst stare beating down on him like a telltale spotlight illuminating all his flaws. "I hate it! I hate that we even have to consider going back to being a sick puppet for the state! I thought all of this would end and you would finally be mine, but I guess I was wrong!" He scrambled to hastily flip the control pad on his bed and raise the back to sit properly, thrusting his burn mark in the air for his now stunned partner to clearly see. "_This_ is why I fought! Our marriage is my priority and all I want is for you to be a pilot and for me to be a mechanic! I wanna have a home with you, an _actual_ home, where we can eat whatever the hell we want and go to bed at midnight without anyone telling us off for staying up too late the night before a military conference! I want you, Red, and I know that can't happen unless Irk is taken care of and I want that too! I love our planet and I want it to be safe, but there has to be another way to take care of things without us going back to being something we're not!"

Purple's furious, appallingly truthful voice rang out over the room, silencing his fuming partner where he had slumped into the far corner and averted his astonished gaze to his bare feet to avoid the horrific fire raging wildly behind Purple's singed ocular lenses. He blinked and let the remainder of his long, irate argument die on his lips when he caught sight of something peculiar, squinting through the dark and feeling his spooch lurch with horrendous remorse when his antennae picked up the sound of a soft, almost inaudible sniff from the far corner. What? Did he just hear that right?

"Red? Are you…crying?" He breathed in disbelief, feeling his guilt at having been so nasty and hurtful flood over him like a tsunami and nearly drown him out to the rest of the world. Red never cried, carefully guarding his venerability and emotions behind a three-ton wall of steel and barbed wire hardly anyone could penetrate. Why here? Why now? Were Purple's words really that hurtful?

Red said nothing, the fight quickly fading from his expression to be replaced with a strange, uncharacteristic despondency Purple hadn't been expecting. The silence was deafening against his now ringing antennae, making him desperate for his lover to continue on with their heated, bitter spat and only growing more nervous by the second when he realized he was adamant on keeping his mouth shut. Purple wanted to know what was swimming around in that cryptic mind of his, gnawing at the fringes of his perception but keeping back just enough for him to remain utterly confused about Red's true stance on the matter. What was he feeling? Why was he crying? Purple knew why this was such a big deal, it was a massive deal for him as well to have his planet taken care of and restored to proper function, but if there was one thing he knew well, it was that reestablishing strong leadership to a broken Empire was a feat that wasn't necessarily too difficult to do. He had assumed proper control of thousands without a hitch in the past and Irk could do the same if they could find someone with enough of a political science background to step up and take the reins. There were hundreds of powerful generals on Irk alone, so at least one of them had to have enough sense to know what would be right and wrong for their people. Still, Red seemed abnormally terrified and downright panicked for their future to the point that he had stuck himself in a perpetual loop of self destruction all to attempt to remedy something that had kicked him out in the first place and laughed at him on trial for who he had loved. Did he really think the Irken public would want them back as leaders in the first place?

"Red?" Purple mumbled again, swallowing thickly when his partner reached up with shaky, unsettled hands to cover his face and hide his overflowing anguish away from the world. "You know I'm only saying this because I love you, right?"

Silence.

"Honey, look at me."

Red finally responded by slowly shaking his head and precariously holding his breath, furiously biting back against a torrent of unanticipated emotion threatening alarmingly to drag him down as he tried to save face. He slid down the wall, his PAK scraping obnoxiously against the outdated wallpaper before he finally curled into himself with a choke of a stunted sigh.

Oh no.

He really _was_ crying?

Purple stared through the dark for a long while, listening to the soft, unnerving sobs of his partner against the floor as he shamefully broke down and let his worries get the better of him for the first time in a long while, staining the front of his long blue gown dark with his hot tears. He wouldn't look up, stuck to his trembling hands as Purple was swamped with awful, soul-crushing guilt for having pushed Red so far over the edge against his better judgement. This wasn't like either one of them; Red was supposed to be the strong protector willing to face any monstrous challenge thrown his way and Purple was supposed to be the emotive caregiver ready to take the world by storm with his incredible intelligence. What happened to cause the tables to turn so dramatically? Whatever was squeezing at Red's soul, whatever demons were plaguing his mind in the white-hot sizzle of their argument, Purple couldn't leave him to cry it out pitifully through the shadows on the floor of a foreign hospital millions of miles from home.

He had to make this right.

Purple struggled to kick and brush his thick blankets to the side and reached out for the safety latch on his bed's guardrail, fumbling to unhook it and slowly lower it down to sling his sore feet over the edge. His whole body ached terribly and threatened to give under his lightheaded, anesthesia laden cognition but he persisted with growing determination when he heard his disturbingly distraught husband half-choke on his own tears, pushing up to his unsteady feet and grabbing dizzily for his IV station when his knees threatened to buckle and take him down in a heap. The first step was the hardest, a grueling mishmash of cracking joints and stiff, retracted muscles screaming for him to sit back down as he made his way unevenly to the door, pausing every few feet for breath before finally latching on to the doorknob and tugging it open. He squinted against the powerful sterility of the blinding white light smacking him square in the face and mercilessly causing his already faulty vision to lapse, gasping when Teem and Kez nearly fell in on him from where they had been snooping with their curled antennae pressed hard to the door throughout the duration of their heated fight. Kez screeched in surprise and stumbled gracelessly back, grabbing roughly at the hem of her wife's gown and practically ripping it away from her body when Purple reached out with a rapid, trembling palm to her shoulder and stopped her from faceplanting straight into the hard metal of the doorframe.

Teem blinked and stared forward at the sudden contact, confused for a few long seconds before she reached up and felt along the length of her friend's arm, noting the lack of tiny burn scars splayed like stars over his skin from a violent crash landing hundreds of cycles ago and frowning when she figured out who it was that she was touching.

"Purple? Are you alright? I know he can get a bit-"

Purple cut her off, hoping to conceal the urgency in his tone but knowing he had already failed. "Does this floor have a break room or anything? I need something sweet." He asked vaguely, only growing more unenthused when both Teem and Kez shrugged in unison.

A tall, lanky medical drone looked down from where he had been lumbering past with a patient's lunch tray, scanning Purple's IV station with his gargantuan eye before interjecting suddenly into their conversation. "Excuse me, sir, but you're still on a glucose IV. You're not allowed to have any solid food until after-"

Ugh, was everyone here difficult?

"It's not for me, idiot. It's for my husband." Purple snapped strongly, growing exasperated at the flippant assumption. "All I want is some candy or a donut or something."

The drone wavered a moment before shaking his head in firm noncompliance. "I'm sorry but there's no solid food even allowed in your room under order of your surgeon. If he wants something to eat, he can go downstairs to the cafeteria and come back up later during visiting hours."

Purple wanted to rip his antennae out, thrusting a finger up at the tall behemoth's quivering mandibles and flashing him a look of unbridled irritation that had the drone shifting timidly on his feet. "Then bring him some coffee or something! I don't care what it is, just get it for me now!" He demanded fervently, snapping his fingers obnoxiously until the drone got the point and swallowed, nodding before hurrying off in the opposite direction to fulfill his angry patient's commands.

Kez took a few apprehensive steps forward and rubbed soothingly at Purple's knee, watching his stress unfold from below as she tried to qualm the bewildering turn of events wedged between him and his unraveling partner at the moment. "I'm sorry we asked if you and Red wanted to come and live with us." She mewled shyly under her breath, afraid of the response but forcing herself to keep on despite her fears. "I didn't know you two hadn't talked things through yet, and I'm sorry we caused a fight."

Purple shrugged indifferently to her apology, running his unscarred hand over the smooth metal of his IV pole as he waited for his makeshift servant to return. "It's not your fault. We had to talk about this eventually anyway." He muttered, watching down the corridor as the drone dropped off the lunch tray several doors down before hopping off to find something warm and sweet for his husband.

"Yeah, but, he doesn't have to be such a prick." Teem grumbled back, resituating herself and dusting off her front like it mattered. "When we were smeets together he was never this bad."

Purple rolled his eyes, happy that his friend couldn't see his annoyance but instead voicing out loud for her to clearly hear. "It's not his fault. Red has issues, alright?" He defended, satisfied when the drone reappeared from within what he assumed was a break room carrying a too-full cup of something piping hot in his carefully balanced feelers. "He's seen a lot of action and done a lot of things he's still trying to recover from. Give him a break." He reached out with his free hand when the skinny drone carefully passed him a ceramic mug full of something rich and delightfully gooey he immediately recognized as delectable, enticing hot chocolate. Purple shooed him on with the resolute flick of a wrist and didn't wait for him to respond before spinning back around and tugging his glucose IV along with him to fix whatever insanity was bouncing about in his husband's fractured mind. "Why don't you guys go rest for a while? I'm going to try and talk him down and I don't really know how long it's gonna take, but when we get everything solved and figured out I'll come and get you."

Kez nodded with a faint smile, wiping the last traces of sticky, overly sensitive tears from her round apple cheeks. "Take your time, lovely boy." She sang, tugging Teem along when she too flashed a warm beam out to the ether and hoped Purple saw.

Hopefully Red would be willing to talk.

* * *

**Prime Minister Ab Sledhob's Flagship;**

The Prime Minister had silently led Lard Nar though the winding corridors and back hallways of his gargantuan ship, taking a swift elevator up a few floors and passing many bustling groups of Inquisitorian guards and navigators chatting leisurely amongst themselves and pouring over extensive daily reports as they made their way to and from their stations. Sledhob's ship was unbelievably impressive and packed to the brim with advanced technology and strobing color that Lard Nar had never seen before, admiring the dancing lights of intelligence equipment and high-tech headsets slung carefully over mouths as well-trained officers listened to Irken rebel chatter from millions of miles away and carefully monitored the violent riots sweeping the surface of Irk. Beautiful paintings and striking pieces of art littered the walls at every free interval, showing off the Prime Minister's pension for the finer things in life as well as his bottomless pocket book, several famous, priceless canvas paintings staring back down at them as they continued their leisure walk to his main office at the pinnacle of the bridge.

They finally arrived at what looked like a freshly painted, extravagant navy hatch covered in strange jewels and wire wrapped pendants from faraway lands Lard Nar himself had probably never even heard of, all glittering expensively in the low, muted light as two stoic guards with long electric spears saluted respectfully and moved to open the door for their haughty leader.

"Ah, thank you, gentlemen!" Sledhob beamed enthusiastically, striding past in long, languid sweeps and glancing back to make sure his unstable colleague was treading carefully along at his thin heels. "Please, Captain, feel free to make yourself at home. Would you like some brandy?" He suggested genially, pausing with a smile when Lard Nar lingered in the doorway and admired the strange, exotic, mind-blowing office of sheer opulence he had the privilege of standing in.

Sledhob was a proverbial magpie, colleting strange objects and shiny oddities from around the universe from his research travels as a young man, filling his large office to the brink of bursting with bizarre fantasies he loved to run his scrutinizing gaze over on a daily basis. Aged bookshelves were carefully secured to the walls with fine netting, containing ancient texts and dusty hardcovers in thousands of alien languages and dead alphabets, littered with archaic bones and vials containing carefully preserved samplings of outlandish creatures dotted with eyes or coated with neon fur drifting peacefully through their liquid tombs. Whole brass bowls of sparkling mineral and gemstone specimens in a variety of hues and shapes were strung about here and there and a large, carefully polished bar was spread across the back of the room behind his massive, cluttered desk. Stained glass lamps and ocher imported bulbs hung at varying intervals from a retrofitted suspension system set into the dazzling indigo ceiling, casting magnificent shadows and peculiar silhouettes over enormous crystal balls and gleaming weapons laid haphazardly in odd places and collecting dust from misuse. It was remarkably cozy, every clashing color and vivid textile somehow coming together to form a cohesive motif like one of the many cosmic bazaars Lard Nar had waded through, noting the unmistakable scent of sweet resins and woody, philosophic incenses wafting through the air as Sledhob ran his feelers together in unsurmounted delight.

Lard Nar had almost forgotten his dreadful episode back in the hospital, captivated by the gorgeous smells and superb sights enriching his experience for the better before he caught sight of his colleague sliding forward gracefully and waving his tibial spines over a large tank in the back with a ghostly whistle, drawing him forward out of sheer curiosity to examine what responded to his voice and shuffled around in the bottom of its enclosure. He blinked in awe and let his jaw fall slack when he caught sight of an eyeless, centipede-like creature digging and scuttling about through the soft wooden shavings spread generously in the bottom of its gargantuan, foliage covered tank. It had hundreds of prickly legs, moving almost in unison as long, sticky tendrils fluttered up from its hard exoskeleton and groped about for remnants of food and delectable morsels Sledhob had fed it earlier in the morning. It craned its flat, pearlescent body up into the Prime Minister's droning whistle, listening intently to the sound and freezing to turn its sightless attention over to where Lard Nar stood on his toes to look through the pristine glass, skittering over to sniff at him through the enclosure with two long, segmented antennae.

Sledhob chuckled and let his whistle fade, watching as his pet returned to its senses and resumed digging through the dirt greedily for scraps. He stepped away and let Lard Nar stare in fascination up at the familiar creature, lighting a few already half melted candles at his desk before speaking up.

"Do you know what that is, Captain?" He asked leisurely, positioning himself in an opulent, plush backed chair and waiting for his Vortian friend to peel his astonished gaze from the enclosure.

"How did you find one of these?" Lard Nar breathed, not wanting to leave the wriggling creature behind but reluctantly turning his attention towards Sledhob's desk. "T-They're supposed to be completely extinct!"

Sledhob nodded slowly with a soft blink, waiting for Lard Nar to take the adjacent seat before taking up a decanter and bending, rooting through a few cluttered drawers in his desk for two dusty glasses before blowing them out and coughing when it blew back in his face. "That is a Kalopiac male from Vort. One of my research teams stumbled across it in a deep cave three miles below the surface and decided to bring it back here for safe keeping so we can attempt to locate a female and hopefully breed them for repopulation." He explained with an excited fervor to his voice. "I'm assuming you know of these creatures?"

Lard Nar couldn't believe what he was hearing, feeling his horns crane forward slightly as Sledhob poured an acrid smelling amber liquid into each of the glasses, scooting one over with a jovial grin. "Yes, they were popular as pets when I was a child." He breathed, staring back over his shoulder to where the Kalopiac scraped at the glass, sensing a Vortian presence and waiting nothing more than to latch on to the fabric of his hospital gown with its firm legs and hooked feet. "You said you want to breed them for repopulation? You…you really _do_ want to help Vort?"

Lard Nar was sure Inquisitoria was only interested in his planet for the prospect of research, like he had thought they had done to thousands of others, but now he didn't know what to believe anymore.

Sledhob didn't notice the surprise behind his friend's tone, taking a small swig of the bitter liquid and swishing it through his mouth before swallowing. "Of course. Why would I be anything but dedicated to my allies?" He cocked his head when his colleague sniffed at his aged brandy and shrunk back at the overpowering smell. "Actually, Vort is one of the many things I was hoping to discuss with you."

"Vort?" Lard Nar blinked in suspicion, staring down at the exquisite crystal of the etched glass clutched carefully in his fingers. He took a tentative sip, relishing in the silky, buttery taste of the stinging alcohol passing over his tongue and pleasantly warming him to his toes. "Why do you want to talk to _me_ about Vort? You're the one who owns it now."

Sledhob threw his head back with a deep, silvery laugh. "Ha! Well, yes and _no_, my boy! We will get to that little gem soon enough!" He chuckled with a sincere, candid friendliness and a jittery excitement, only setting Lard Nar into another bout of perplexity at the bizarre statement. "But, first I would like to ask what happened outside when I found you?"

Lard Nar struggled to remain composed, taking another long drink of his brandy to try and loosen himself up to talk and hopefully keep Pem's daunting voice firmly trapped in the innermost reaches of his mind. "I don't know." He lied feebly.

"Come on now, this is a talk man to man. Whatever you say stays with me here in this room."

"Well…"

"Would it help if I told you my own story?"

Lard Nar still didn't seem so sure, scooting forward on the edge of his worn leather seat to listen intently with a tiny nod. Did that mean that Sledhob also had the same problem once? How? How could someone so self-confident almost to a fault, so affluent and undeniably powerful struggle with something as common and heart wrenching as PTSD?

"I just…this is all new to me. I don't really know what I'm doing or what's happening to my mind." He responded plainly, waiting for an answer and flinching towards his lap when the Prime Minister adjusted his jewel-encrusted headpiece and hummed. "I-I can hear things that aren't there and…_smell_ things. Disgusting things."

"War can do that to you, son. It is a terrible thing to witness with all the carnage and bloodshed. I've found through my own personal research that every species is affected by its awful grip; my people, Vortian, Irken, Plookesian, Screwhead, everyone's consciousness is pulled apart by the horror." Sledhob's voice took on deeper, more serious notes as he leaned back and crossed his legs. "I myself have struggled for over four hundred cycles with the trauma. I'm 699 now, getting a little long in the mandibles, I know, but those things never leave you no matter how far along in the past they occur."

Lard Nar sunk down into himself, feeling the final precarious bubble of hope drifting in its lonesome in his battered psyche burst, leaving behind a cold, hollow bitterness for his inescapable fate. How was this supposed to make him feel any better about his situation?

Sledhob noticed his growing concerns and reached out, fully extending his mantis-like appendage over the surface of his desk to tap lightly on Lard Nar's shoulder, restoring his attention and tenderly hooking under his chin like a father to draw his eyes up to meet his own. "Let me finish before you make assumptions." He whispered through the serene glow of the soft, welcoming candlelight. "I've read your files of your time as the rebel leader of the Resisty. You have always fascinated me from the beginnings of your career, even if we were once _technically_ on opposite sides. I could have squashed you and your men so long ago with my forces, but I didn't. Do you know why?"

Lard Nar set his drink up on the edge of the teakwood desk with a faint clink when his colleague pulled his touch away from his chin to jab at his heart, brushing lightly at the folds of his gown to try and urge him to see his elusive point. "I-I don't know." Lard Nar finally admitted, not following the strange conversation and getting lost in the false lucidity of the fine detail of it all. "W-Why?"

Sledhob poked him hard in the chest with a passionate spine, staring him down through the glow and sending a shiver down his spine at the incredible, profound sincerity of his net statement. "Because you have the fire to build Empires." He said firmly, his eye well-founded and resolute of thought. "You have determination unsurmounted by any other I have witnessed in a long while."

Lard Nar felt his breath hitch when the Prime Minister finally drew back, leaving him with more questions than answers. "Wait, that doesn't make any sense! I failed with the Resisty! Under my leadership, I got all of my men killed." He whispered forlornly.

_This guy is crazy, Lard Nar. Let's get out of here and-_

Pem's damming, senseless voice was cut off by the frightful shout of the potent, steadfast Inquisitorian sitting tall across from him, dragging him back into the moment like a struggling fish on a line.

"That is exactly the kind of attitude that is holding you in this self-induced psychosis of yours!" Sledhob scolded suddenly, his deep, booming voice escalating to dangerous levels and causing his colleague to rocket straight in sudden surprise. "We both have PTSD, but I don't believe this is the true core to your issue! You are dwelling on the false idea of failure that was never there to begin with. Let me explain from what I remember of your personal file, hm? I remember reading about how you graduated at the Hatalca University of Engineering in the top 3 percent of your class, moved on to work for Irken Miyuki's cabinet of 100 personal engineering associates, and helped to personally design the Massive for her Empire. You then were sentenced to prison in Vortian Prison Camp 4 where you singlehandedly organized a rebellion and managed to sneak messages to rebel forces outside of the prison walls to send for a ship. What next, my boy? You took over for an intergalactic coalition of insurgents and successfully banded together hundreds of different cultures that previously felt animosity to one another. That itself is quite the impossible feat." Sledhob paused, making sure all of the thick, profound information was seeping into his friend before continuing. "You then became a spy for the Irken Empire, defected and maintained an alliance with the growing trust you felt towards Commanders Red and Purple, and became the fourth in command of the IRM behind Captain Teem."

_Lies. He's trying to butter you up to gain your trust like everyone else. You will…never be…anything without…me…_

"Yeah, but-" Lard Nar clamped his jaw shut and ignored Pem's sluggishly fading chide when Sledhob's mandibles shivered as if to gently scold him from putting himself down again.

"But nothing, my boy. You successfully overcame one of the worst terrorists to attack our collective Empires and helped to undermine his resources and eventually bring him to death." The Prime Minister praised respectfully with a wide, untamed beam. He stood as Lard Nar watched him in bewildered admiration, the gorgeous glow of the flickering flames dancing before him bouncing beautifully off his lenses when Sledhob flew into a brazen salute of pure reverence. "I would follow you into battle any day, Captain, and you have the thanks of the entire Inquisitorian Empire for saving our people. You are a true hero."

Peace…enduring, untainted, exquisite peace.

No supercilious voice came to combat the tranquility, no unstable laughter radiated through his thoughts as they pieced themselves back together like a jagged puzzle. The image of beautiful olive green eyes faded away to a pleasant black, and the feeling of soft, cold lips against his was pushed to the wayside as only a fleeting remembrance. Gone. Pem was gone, truly and wholly from his mind as a figment of what once was instead of the menace left behind to haunt his best dreams and plague his worst nightmares. Lard Nar could see him clearly for what he was for the first time, a fractured, weary shell of a man led on by the false promises of utopia by a maddened troop of dictatorial monsters. That was all he was; not the beast plaguing his life as a grisly disease or his worst, most atypical fear manifested into physical being to choke the soul from his delicate throat. He was just a man. A Vortian engineer he both hated with all his might and strangely loved with all his soul in the same breath who had been infinitely wronged and harmed down to his last thread of precious sanity by a lost, mystified people following an equally confounded leader. Maybe things could have been different if he had taken Pem with him from prison during his break, if he had noticed him back when he was still young and sweet, but now Lard Nar had finally realized through the words of an experienced leader that it wasn't his fault.

It wasn't his fault.

It was time to move on.

Lard Nar wasn't a failure and he didn't need Pem to show his worth to the world around him. He had done that already for himself, raking across galaxies and collecting the fallen with no place to call home and manufacturing one to bring them all together for a common goal they could genuinely be proud of for the first time. He had overcome the hundreds upon hundreds of cycles of Irken-Vortian racism instilled in Red and Purple by Miyuki, taking them back into the light and earning their trust to hopefully pave the way for a brighter, productive tomorrow for their peoples. He had trained alongside hundreds of recruits and performed Yult'nab with two Irkens he loved more than anything and planned to do it with both Purple and Teem when they had recovered. This was his life to live, his mind to hold dominion over, and his family to enjoy until his death.

Lard Nar glanced back up, meeting Sledhob's crimson eye contact as he lowered himself back down with a wise, knowing nod that he had finally rid his colleague of the destructive, soul-crushing demons flittering beneath his skin and clawing him into oblivion.

"There, now you understand." He stated simply with a relieved sigh and a slow, sensible blink. He thought a few moments as Lard Nar reeled over his ingenious success and newfound confidence, reaching back out and digging through the top drawer of his desk for something he had kept carefully concealed for hundreds of cycles from even the eyes of his wife. "Now that you are in control of your own mind once more, I would like to propose something to you, Captain."

Lard Nar squinted through the low light when Sledhob held up a large, green gold broach, admiring the massive, priceless emerald set in the middle of the intricate scrollwork around the edge fondly before passing it along to his friend's waiting hands. Lard Nar nearly had a come apart when he realized what it was, scrambling not to drop the priceless artifact through his fingers with a sharp gasp before shooting his bewildered, awestruck gaze back up to the steady, even eye examining him with mounting amusement.

"T-This," he stuttered inelegantly, tripping over the racing words flooding his mind all at once as he grappled with the gravity of what he was given the rare privilege to touch. "D-Do you know what this is?! W-Where did you get this?! I-I shouldn't be touching something like this!" He blurted out with a breathless shout, running his trembling thumbs over the elaborate Vortian creed engraved in the beautiful setting.

Sledhob laughed once more, the childlike twinkle resurfacing in his wide pupil at the astounded gawk plastered over Lard Nar's face as he shook. "I was entrusted with that after the fall of the Vortian Empire by my friend King Pol Krin himself before he was killed by the Irken Elite off-planet. It was thought that my Empire, with our advanced technology, would be able to keep it safe from pillagers. I was also instructed to maintain my foothold on Vort and to search with my scrutinizing, unbiased opinion, for a new, capable leader I felt would be able to restore the planet to its former glory when the time allowed. So, I waited, and I waited until this fiasco came along and destroyed the Irken Empire's hold on your society." He explained, stopping momentarily when Lard Nar gasped and nearly dropped his past leader's crest to his lap once more. He returned to the still open drawer of his desk once more and gingerly removed an old docket, holding it up.

Lard Nar couldn't believe what he was seeing, reading over the fanciful Vortian script of his past King. It was a final declaration relinquishing the elucidatory permissions to elect a new monarch of Vort over to Prime Minister Ab Sledhob, giving him full consent and authorization to make the world-shattering decision should Pol Krin fall in battle or die in exile before the planet could be properly restored to function. Pol Krin was the last of his familial line and had no children, as everyone in Vort had been incredibly worried about for some time, relinquishing the throne on to the next elected official deemed worthy. This was an unbelievably critical, absolutely vital decision for the continuation of the planet and the Vortian culture. Even Pem didn't dare take the position of King in his fervor, wanting the Control Brains to merely make him an ambassador rather than soil the holy, universe given right to rule with such elegance and moral obligation as this. How could he have never known Sledhob had been hunting for a new sovereign leader all these cycles right under his horns? If King Pol Krin trusted him with something as influential as this, everything about their relationship was about to change.

Sledhob cleared his throat when Lard Nar tried to speak but felt his words die on his lips. "King Pol Krin advised me that this pin is over 23,000 cycles old and is only to be touched by my feelers and the hands of an elected Vortian monarch I deemed appropriate to take over the position."

"Y-Yes! I-I'm not allowed to touch this! This is so wrong and goes against everything I know! T-This is only for royalty!" Lard Nar stammered in alarm, flying from his seat and trying with mounting urgency over the desk to get Sledhob to take the broach back from his palms but he oddly refused, instead resorting to a vague, strange conversation shift that only had Lard Nar more stressed.

The Prime Minister pointed behind them to the Kalopiac throwing wood shavings over his body to bury himself and settle down for a deep slumber. "That Kalopiac male is only the first of my duties to restore Vort to proper function." He began gradually with a tut of the tongue, trying to urge Lard Nar to sit back down from where he wildly tried to rid himself of his deceased King's personal symbol of his reign. "I am a researcher at heart, a philanthropist, and a restorations expert dedicated to keeping our star system and our universe healthy and preserved, and I believe I have found the answer to the Vortian crisis."

"W-What do you mean? Y-You found our next leader?!" Lard Nar retorted hastily, finally resorting to simply setting the pin as gingerly as he could manage on the edge of Sledhob's desk and admiring the gorgeous, otherworldly flicker of yellow light dancing across the ancient surface of the deep green emerald worn on the breast of every famous and infamous Vortian ruler since the beginning of their monarchy's establishment. It was absolutely irreplaceable, a priceless, invaluable piece of stunning history that should be clasped over the heart of the next ruler of Vort, not thrust into his incapable hands by someone he had only met six months ago.

"What I mean, Captain, is that I have been watching you for quite some time." Sledhob whispered warmly, trying to get his bewildered colleague to see the weighty, world-changing importance of his overwhelming purpose. "I have been following every campaign you have launched since the beginning of your rebellion and I have always wanted to approach you for this talk."

"W-What talk?! I-I don't understand!"

"You are politically savvy, resilient, and have the ability to lead and bring together peoples of all races for the common good. You are a prodigy in the making, Lard Nar. Because you were openly fighting against the Irken Empire, I was unable to reach out to you for cycles because of the Irken-Inquisitorian Treaty and my shaky alliance with the then Tallest of the planet. But now that Commanders Purple and Red have gifted me Vort as reparations for the death of General Hoc Nulol, it is mine to give up in return to the leader I wanted it to have for so long."

"G-Give up?" Lard Nar felt his pulse escalate into his throat and every muscle and bone in his body go rigid with shock when Sledhob once again reached out and slid the pin back across his desk with a faint clink. "W-What are you-"

"I am fulfilling the final request of my old friend King Pol Krin and finally bringing this long search to a close."

"B-by…doing…d-doing _what_?!"

"By the power vested in me by Vortian King Pol Krin III, I hereby elect you, Captain Lard Nar, as the next King of the Vortian Empire."

* * *

**Stads Hospital; Fourth Floor Multi-Species Unit; Room 39;**

Purple had ushered Teem and Kez on, watching warily to make sure they left before gingerly shutting the door behind him to be met with the near silent sobs of his war-torn husband slumped against the far corner. He tenderly strode forward, irritated by the annoying squeak of his IV pull tagging along next to him while he expertly balanced the warm, comforting mug of hot chocolate in his free hand. Red had completely come apart, antennae drooping forward loosely as he lost himself to the disgusting world of pain and anguish he had built for himself in the heat of their now dying argument, shoulders wracked by faint sobs in the low light as Purple struggled to lower himself down. It took a lot of effort to not accidentally tug his painful IV free or spill the chocolatey goodness to the floor as he winced and powered through the agony of his stitches tugging and groaning brutally under the shift he knew he was probably not allowed to make, but he didn't care.

Red had always been the strong one. Now it was his turn to be strong for him.

Purple set the mug aside to the floor, reaching out with his scarred hand and delicately taking his disturbed, hysterical husband's wrist in his fingers before tugging his hand lightly away from his tear-streaked face. He leaned forward when Red again refused to make misty eye contact, shying away stiffly but not getting far as Purple pulled him in for a heartfelt, loving embrace and dragging him down to rest against his shoulder as he cried about some unforeseen issue he still didn't understand but wanted to, palming feather-light touches to the side of his salty face as he drew in a shuddering breath. His shattered strength and stoic, logical persona didn't matter at this point when he gave up and put his weight against his partner's side to cry, scrambling for his hand and clutching firmly at his fingers when Purple entwined them together as if he would lose him forever if he even dared let go.

"Geez, Red, it's ok." Purple mumbled against his flushed skin, flicking his long antennae down to graze over his lover's cheek and scent the terrible, mind-numbing anguish he unfortunately found there. "Shh…I promise we'll figure this out."

"I-It's not ok." Red finally found some semblance of a voice, half-choking, half-sobbing the frenzied, indistinct words as he buried himself deeper into he crook of Purple's neck. "I-It'll never be fucking ok!"

Purple blinked when he felt tiny, grieved rivulets of liquid pain hit his skin and thaw him in the worst of ways. "Look, we don't have to go live with Teem and Kez if you don't want to. We can just-"

Red shook his head against his partner, smearing his tears and personified shame over his shoulder and wanting to smack himself for letting himself become so unbelievably, disgustingly venerable. "That's not it!" He bit unsteadily, pulling back and wiping frantically at his eyes with the back of his already soaked sleeve. "Y-You don't get it!"

Purple reached up and placed a reassuring palm over the side of his lover's jawline, trying to entice him to speak but falling short with what to say in the heat of the moment, resorting to something simple, yet resoundingly profound and hoping Red took it through his traumatized heartache. "Tell me." He said firmly, giving his partner an anchor in the flimsy, formless despondency afflicting his mind and PAK. "Help me get it."

Red went back on the harsh, bitter defensive, reigniting the searing firewall of repulsive, startling emotion shorting out his once sensible, rational brain and showing him a side of himself he still didn't understand to this day. He had never been one to process feelings, swallowing them down like thick pills and keeping them carefully hidden away from the rest of the world, and sometimes even Purple, in a desperate effort to not have to experience or deal with the very worst, most agonizing part of himself.

Purple sensed his mounting anguish and reached out for the comforting mug of molten goodness the drone had been kind enough to go and, forcibly, find for them both. He stroked longingly at his partner's raw cheek with one hand and held up the delicious drink with the other, flashing him a soft, affectionate smile and waiting for him to blink and take it with unsteady, hesitant fingers.

"You don't have to be strong all the time, idiot." Purple's exquisite assurance brushed back some of the grueling, horrific darkness shrouding Red's soul and revealed a miniscule glimmer of relief fluttering far out on his pummeled skyline. "You should give me more credit, sometimes. I can be strong too, so let me be strong for you."

Red sniffed and stared down at the mouthwateringly delicious cup of pure bliss, letting his limp antennae perk slightly and draw into the luscious, succulent scent. He hadn't had anything sweet since the beginning of the war, bringing the edge of the mug to his lips and closing his vivid, fatigued eyes to the incredible, overwhelming taste of sugary cocoa imported from the finest factories on Plookesia. It was soothing and homely, the reassuring flavor combined with the intimate, familiar touch of his adoring partner wrapping an arm around his chilly shoulders giving him a much needed sense of normalcy through the heartache and stress of the unknown bearing down on him from above like a vice. They sat that way for a while, Red coming down from the disgusting, upsetting high of pressure-induced illness while Purple waited with a surprising patience he managed to somehow draw out of his immature mind to comfort his distraught spouse through his time of mysterious need.

"Is it good?" He finally asked after an undetermined amount of time, giggling when Red thought a moment and nodded with a faint, uneasy smile. "Can I try?"

"I guess." Red mumbled hoarsely, reaching up to let Purple take a sip from his cup and nearly spilling the rest to the ground out of shock when he leaned forward unexpectedly and planted a firm kiss to his lips, exorcising the rest of Red's violent torments with his body and running a warm, amorous palm up behind his neck to hold him close when he tried to pull away.

Damn him.

Damn him to hell and damn him to heaven.

Purple always knew what to do to absolutely tear down Red's front like a powerful warlord; trauma, hatred, confusion, agony, sickness…none of it stood a chance when that amethyst eyed demon of an angel sunk his claws into his spooch and took him for what he was. He had a hold on him, not necessarily an ownership but something much deeper and more philosophical, almost as if they were truly two halves of the same pulse. Red was the fervent diastole of the beat, filling them with passion and blood while Purple was the systole fanning that passion out over their arteries and flushing their veins. Together they made up the electric current keeping them afloat in the physical, enjoying the sensations of the slow, silky feeling of uncut craving playing out over soft mouths through shaky smirks and confident smiles. An old, overplayed mantra crept back up through exhausted PAK memories to smooth over shoulders and trembling hands as Red melted against his partner's chest and gave himself up fully to the intense, enduring devotion shocking him awake like a gentle defibrillator.

Together…they were meant to be together.

Purple pulled away with a sigh, licking the remaining tinge of chocolate from his lips with an immature grin as Red stared back and searched his face with delirious bewilderment at what had just transpired. Even after all this time, he would always find himself rattled at that amazing, mind-blowing feeling and overpowered by the liquid sensation of butterflies fluttering up through his chest at that gorgeous, childish smile beaming back at him. How had someone so untamed, so ferociously rebellious and comfortable with himself come to be his?

"Huh, it's better than I was expecting for hospital chocolate." Purple teased, letting his hand fall away and brushing Red lightly over the shoulder on the downstroke.

"You're an asshole." Red felt a tiny, feverish snicker slip out only to fan the bright-burning fire simmering next to him.

Purple let his smile evolve into an undomesticated, broad grin, the jovial, childish glow sparking immediately back in his deep eyes when he noticed that he had finally put the hook back in his tear-stained partner and restored him from his breakdown to some semblance of snarky normalcy.

"I knew that would work!" He mocked happily, rolling in his own self-assured success when Red shot him a look of falsely irritated complacency. "So…you gonna tell me what this is all about?"

Red had been hoping he would just forget about his embarrassing collapse and move on, knowing deep in the pit of his spooch that they were going to have to have a serious talk about their future no matter how terribly he wanted to sprint screaming in the other direction and never look back. Still, Purple was his husband. He couldn't just keep his greatest, nastiest feelings a secret for the rest of his existence. They were supposed to share things like that and prop each other up when they felt at their lowest to kindle the magnificent flame of hope and trust that could move mountains and destroy comets if the need arose. He needed that…needed Purple to be his flame.

"You won't laugh?" He muttered, a ghost of a sound fluttering between them as he set his mug gingerly aside and moved back in against his beaming partner, listening to the gentle rise and fall of his even breath and using it as a moor in the unsteady ocean of uncertainty causing him to doubt himself for the first time in a long time. He didn't wait for Purple's response, already knowing his answer before continuing. "I-I…um…I don't wanna be Tallest either."

Purple stiffened against him, pushing him back tenderly to search his face with a wide-eyed gawk of sheer surprise and another emotion that Red couldn't seem to pin. Excitement? Bewilderment? Terror? A muddying mix of all three?

"What?" He breathed through the gelatinous disbelief, furrowing his brow in utter confusion as he looked for any sign that he was somehow lying or misheard. "Why are we fighting then?"

Red swallowed and moved his hands quickly away from his shoulders, settling back down and wanting nothing more than to be as close as physically possible to Purple's consoling, comforting body and drink in his familiar, natural scent lingering underneath the sterile smell of antibacterial ointment and stretchy gauze. "B-Because I _have_ to be Tallest." He explained dejectedly as his misery grew, slinging his arms sluggishly around his partner's thin waist for purchase.

"Honey, you don't _have_ to be anything." Purple scoffed quietly, folding into the touch and thinking long and hard about the bizarre statement. "I don't understand what you mean. You can literally walk away any time you want and be whoever you want. We have that option now."

Red shook his head and let his eyes flutter shut. "No, I can't." He began haphazardly. "I-I don't know _how_ to do anything else. I was pegged to be Spork's successor the moment I graduated the Academy and took over the Naphrus Airbase with Teem as the joint Commander. Everyone knew about it and I just thought it was a joke at first, but I guess they were grooming me for the position from the start of my career. Everything I've ever done, Pur, has been for that office. Every war I've fought, every ship I've flown, every word I've spoken, has all been to be Tallest. I've never been my own Irken and now that I'm able to decide that…I-I don't know what to think. If I wasn't fighting this war to go back to being Tallest, what was the point of me fighting at all?"

Purple felt his spooch drop when he finally realized the gravity of what Red was saying. He didn't feel worth it. He didn't feel like he could ever truly be independent outside of the position because he had never truly _been_ anything else. He had been a powerful Elite Commander for cycles, a glorious death machine wading through their tattered excuse for a cosmos to thwart any danger thrown his way with a vigor and violence unmatched by anyone else climbing their way through the Elite. But it hadn't been for the Elite; it was all a ploy to raise Red's standings with the public in preparation to make him a popular, influential Tallest as Spork neared the end of his prolonged, unproductive life. Even before becoming a puppet to the Control Brains, he was a pawn to the very system he had sold his life to, trading his love life, his social life, and his mental health for a duty and weighty responsibility he had never even asked to receive all because he was physically taller than everyone else. It made Purple sick to think about, thinking back to the tiny bit of freedom he was able to have before he hit his growth spurt after his graduation from the Academy. He was able to make the choice to become an aerospace mechanic, to work on the Massive instead of on the surface of their planet, and to say whatever he wanted amongst the dock team. Red never had a say in whether or not he would be ascended to the seat, forcibly sacrificing his very dreams of remaining Irk's best ace pilot to secretly learn the ins and outs of political advancement behind the closed doors of Spork's private office when he was promoted to the Massive. It wasn't fair. He had never been allowed a choice or the fundamental rights of what it meant to be an individual.

Now he was terrified out of his mind at the very concept of not being able to go back to the same torture and stagnation that had swallowed him whole and claimed that beautiful individuality.

"Red, you have other skills." Purple hushed him softly when he threatened to cry again, staring out into the darkness and glancing up when he heard his IV bag sputter and draw to an end. He grumbled and let go of his husband's shoulders for a minute, reaching down and gritting through the tugging pain when he removed the thin needle from the cook of his arm, replacing the medical tape over the bruise when a small trickle of bright pink blood oozed lazily from the site. "You said it yourself. You're a damn good pilot and you've proven that to everyone else around you. You've literally saved hundreds of Irken and Inquisitorian lives, not to mention Lard Nar like fifty times alone, from death. We stopped the Control Brains together, but I couldn't have taken them offline without you there to defend me. And you did all that as _yourself_, not as Tallest."

Red sniffed again, grabbing for what was left of his drink and taking a small, hesitant sip as he frowned and listened closely to Purple's words. Huh. Maybe…maybe he had done that himself. What did it mean to be a self? Wait…he also married Purple himself. He did that against the wills and wishes of the entire Empire, shattering the very notion and meaning of what it meant to be Tallest in the first place to chase after the feeling he had tried to simulate so long with mind-altering drugs, depressing alcohol, and loose women he would dump in the morning in favor of the same lonely, strained numbness he had been all but mandated to feel for most of his life. He didn't have to feel that anymore. He was right here with the one Irken in their known universe that continued to put up with the disgusting outbursts and horrendous hostility thrown back in his face when Red would allow himself to cascade over the thin line of an edge he usually had to walk. When Purple had breathed life back into him in the warm guest room of Teem and Kez's home in Naphrus, that edge had grown father away, inching out across his psyche to put a generous distance in between him and the depressing, but all-too-real, threat of addiction laughing at him every time he looked in the mirror or found himself overwhelmed by the natural laws of life. He had been good…so good. He had let Lard Nar drink from his deadening sedatives, tempted by the disorienting liquid gold and the sedating, formless pulse of a high it could have graced his weary mind with, instead refusing when the same whiny, arrogant voice peaked in his thoughts and tugged him lovingly away from opening up another crash course to hell.

Purple.

Red's purpose didn't have to be Tallest anymore. He didn't have to clamor aggressively to restore the long-lost status he knew he would be miserable with once he donned the armor and, if he really thought back through the duration of the grisly, murderous war they had both managed to stumble their way out of somehow, he really _wasn't_ fighting for the office. Red couldn't pinpoint a single instance he had actively invested his thoughts in becoming Tallest again, finding a strange sense of peace upon the realization that his ridiculous, immature, idiot of a husband was the main reason he waded through exploding ships and threw himself into firestorms. He had put his life on the line to come bring his true love home to him in once piece, to restore life to his makeup-slathered best friend, to make sure that the Vortian brother following him would have a home to return to, and to give the tiny communication's officer who was now his sister a shot at her dream job. It was all for them, never for the office. All for his family and his partner, the two collective entities he never wanted to live without again for fear of slipping away and becoming nothing. Being a leader didn't make him who he was; Purple's soft touch and obnoxious laugh over their bitter morning coffee made him who he was and gave him love. The raunchy, untamed banter between him and Teem cursing like sailors for fun gave him courage. The incredible war stories and late-night talks about books shared with Lard Nar gave him strength. The delicious, steamy meals and pastries tiny Kez had taught him to cook while she giggled gave him hope.

Fuck being Tallest.

He could eat good snack food with his husband, play video games with his best guy friend, cook with his little sister, and cause hell with his oldest bossy friend without the title of Almighty Tallest. He could decide where he wanted to live, who he wanted to live with, and fly out into the gorgeous cosmos he considered the mother he was never allowed any time he wanted.

He _was_ his own man.

Red finished off the thick, sticky remnants of his hot chocolate clinging to the bottom of the porcelain mug clutched in his now steady, refocused hands, running his long tongue down the sides to scrape out every last drop as he felt his confidence returning. Purple was right. He _didn't_ have to go back. He _wouldn't_ go back, and neither would his beautiful partner. They would pave the way for a new life, a charming wedding, and a domestic bliss all their own without the toils of warfare and the harrowing, strenuous strain of an entire Empire to bog them down. But…how? How could they manage to fix everything for themselves when Irk itself was still in shambles without any sense of direction? They had technically caused the uproar with taking their mechanical despots offline for good, so shouldn't they have some sense of responsibility towards at least fixing the Empire enough for the next Tallest to take over?

Wait.

Next Tallest?

Red sat up, pushing off of Purple's chest and causing him to wince with a sharp gasp when a sudden pang of an idea hit him. How many tall Irkens were there in their current society? The number was small, if he could remember, ranging from anywhere between 0.001 and 0.005 percent at the most. That was a ridiculously puny range for them to consider when electing a new, supposedly almighty leader who was supposed to have dominion over everyone else shorter than him or her. However, over 99 percent of the public was less than three feet tall, showing incredible skill and aptitude in the Armada and all areas of life, but lacking direction unless someone massive was directing their attention about like lemmings and hoping they followed blindly.

That was the crux of the issue. That was the reason for the riots. There was no one tall to lead.

But, what if there didn't have to be someone tall to lead?

He let his jaw fall slack when he realized the dastardly, wholly unnerving statement flittering through his battered mind as he turned back to his confused partner. "Pur…Holy shit." Red felt the beginnings of a tiny grin forming on his face as he sputtered, flying up to grab at his husband's sharp shoulders as he let it explode into a wild, untamed grin. "Holy shit! H-Holy shit!"

Purple shrunk back at the bizarre happiness that had seemingly detonated like a time bomb, raining down strange visions of imperfect, shaky political reckonings that just might work. "Holy shit, what?" He asked skeptically, growing uneasy when Red dug his claws into his skin and ignored him, turning and calling vibrantly over his shoulder.

"Kez!? Kez get in here!" He bellowed excitedly, choosing to ignore how quickly his petite sister stumbled back through the door from where she had continued to eavesdrop with her sightless wife.

"A-ah!" Kez squeaked in sudden panic, clutching at Teem's makeshift lifeline as she led her along. "Red, I'm _so_ sorry I made you upset and I never wanted to make you feel uncomfortable with our idea and if you really don't wanna come and live with us that's total ok and please don't be mad at your cute partner for anything because he's a sweetheart and he only wants the best for you and I do too and-"

Red cut her off from her frantic, terrified ramble of an apology, waving her forward with an unruly, steely grin that set Purple on the edge of anticipation for what otherworldly idea had latched itself inside his partner. "Yeah, yeah, yeah! Everything's fine and we're going to come live with you after this whole mess blows over." He reached out and shushed Purple with a firm finger to his lips before he could cry out in elated ecstasy that he had finally agreed to start their life anew, overtaken by the sheer power of the joyous, momentous proposal gripping delightfully at his renewed form. "But I need you to do something very important for me, first!"

Kez nearly came out of her skin as she bustled with an irresistible, overpowering exhilaration that threatened to rupture at the drop of a pin. She shot a bright, ecstatic look up at her stunned wife who had bit her lip in cautious, thrilled eagerness at the unbearable suspense of Red's novel idea. "Y-You'll live with us?! I-I mean…what do you need?" She said as casually as she could, trying not to let him see the Irk-shattering glee radiating off of her tiny body.

Red nodded and pulled his finger away. "Can you contact the capitol on Irk? The Veloria aristocracy is who I…eh…_we_ need to talk to!"

Purple frowned. The Veloria aristocracy? That was just a bunch of rich shorters who lived in comfort and style around the city, sucking up resources and funds to dole back out to the shorter public who was less fortunate and couldn't support themselves. They had only formed about 50 cycles ago in the recent past, but still held a considerable bit of clout with the immediate public. Why on Irk would Red need to talk to them of all groups?

"I'm not following," Purple began, narrowing his eyes suspiciously to the bizarre request as Kez nodded jovially in compliance and grinned when Red matched her enthusiasm. "What is that gonna do to help us? They only work with shorters."

"Exactly!" Red exclaimed through his dripping delight, reaching up and rubbing the final traces of lingering desolation from his lurid cherry eyes and cheeks. "Hear me out because I never thought I would ever say something like this, but the public is rioting, right?"

"Yeah?"

"And they're rioting because there's no _Tallest_ there to lead them?"

"Red, you're just telling me what I already know."

"What if there didn't have to be a tall Tallest anymore? What is a shorter could be Tallest?"

Purple froze in misunderstanding, letting his baffled gaze trail over to Kez who practically buckled to the floor in shock, up to Teem who choked violently on her own saliva at the very blasphemous thought of Irk being ruled by anyone other than the hierarchy that was hammered into them by the Control Brains upon hatching. Taller Irkens were better, and shorter Irkens were lesser. That was how it had always been, a guise of domination to let the Control Brains use the minority as puppets to control the wishes and wants of the vast majority and overpower any threats of a rebellion that may surface. Oh Irk. Without any dictatorial rule to tell them how to think or act, weren't they all…_equal_? Purple took a few mental steps back when Red waited nervously for his opinion, returning his flighty attention span to Kez and thoroughly examining her for the first time. She was barely two feet tall, had the highest pitched voice he had ever had the displeasure of wading through, and was too short to receive her dream job in the Armada as a communication's officer. By society's standards, she was a nobody, a bottom of the barrel, backwater speck destined to slip between the cracks and be forgotten. However, on a deeper level, she was a wife, a fantastic chef, an ingenious officer with clever hacking abilities, and one of the best, most valued resources the IRM had during the dogfight above Judgementia for her apt skills at keeping communication clear before the towers went down. She was more than her height and it didn't define her.

Wow.

Maybe…maybe Red was right. Maybe height didn't have to define an individual.

"So…what exactly are you thinking?" This time it was Teem's skeptical voice chiming in where she shifted anxiously on her sore feet, waiting for Red's answer with bated breath. "Do you seriously think that would work?"

"Maybe. I want to contact the Veloria aristocracy to put the word out that we're going to be arriving at the capitol in the next 24 hours to give the public a chance for a newer, fresher start." Red blinked and turned back to his partner, taking a deep inhale before proposing a new form of government never before seen in the entire history of Irk. "If they're lacking direction because there's no one tall enough there to lead them, and we're not going to reclaim leadership of the Empire, why don't we give them the authority and the power to lead _themselves_?"

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Interesting! We have Lard Nar supposedly ascending to the pinnacle of leadership on his planet, and Red and Purple stepping away from leadership on theirs. What a juxtaposition! I had a lot of fun writing this chapter! Our boys are going home next chapter and will begin to plan for their weird alien wedding soon once the planet of Irk hopefully doesn't tear them to shreds! Find out next time, lovelies and thanks for your support!

_**Next Update: Sunday, November 24, 2019 at 10:00 pm CDT (UTC -5)! See you then, my darlings!**_


	29. Subordination

Welcome back lovelies to this episode of My Kind! Guess what? We're going home to Irk! I'm really excited because we haven't been to the planetary surface since Pem came and got Red and Purple back in like chapter 10, and the surface has changed a lot in their unfortunate absence.

Thank you for all of your lovely reviews and we are literally almost to 250 reviews on this fic, and over 10,700 views total! WHAT?! That's insane my darlings! Seriously, thank you to everyone who keeps returning; Thank you to our lovely guests, our lovely followers, our lovely favoriters, and the occasional passerby by who is like "hot damn I wanna read this whole thing in one sitting!" You are all fantastic and I love you to death!

**To the guest asking for sex scenes;** I hope I have delivered some semblance of what you want in this chapter because it's gonna be a lot of fun!

_**Chapter rated M for explicit sexual content, brief heavy language, suggestive themes, and general adult content. I repeat, this chapter contains heavy, explicit sexual content, so if that doesn't float your boat, I wanted to warn you! Thanks!**_

* * *

No one had seen Lard Nar for hours, and it was beginning to drone on Red's nerves. He had ordered Kez to return to the tiny Inquisitorian Stinger she had taken to come to the hospital and find her mess of a wife, hoping the internal wiring and communication systems would have enough of a powerful reach to try and send a signal back to the illustrious Veloria aristocracy. It had been decided that Teem must stay behind on the surface of Inquisitoria until her deep, agonizing wounds could be healed by her biological body and, though Red had no idea how long that would take, he was adamant to making sure his friend didn't do anything stupid. He had left his slowly healing husband behind in his room with a lingering kiss as a medical drone attempted to find something reasonable for him to wear, leaving Red to try to find their tiny Vortian college while everything was solidifying in the works, needing to speak with him about the weighty importance of the potentially new relationship his Empire was about to have with Vort should his plan unfold the way he was hoping. Irk, he hoped everything would be alright and they wouldn't be met with violent mobs hoping to slice them at the neck in front of the Tallest Tower. He wanted Lard Nar's wholehearted consent to bring up the planet and its horrendously weakened state in their prospective negotiations with the aristocracy over the rehabilitated leadership of Irk to the public, wanted him there to unveil the strange, dangerous suggestion Purple had made to give up their main Vortian power generator back to the healing planetary surface to restore some form of a relationship with the still imprisoned public.

What were they doing?

Why were they doing it?

Was this even ok to do in the first place?

This plan was faulty, shaky, and horrifically new, something that had never been proposed in the history of Irk, and they were going to ascend to the vicious, ravaged surface of the planet that had exiled them and attempt to negotiate with rich Irkens not even half their height about a drastic hierarchical shift? This was absolutely, mind-bendingly insane, even for the bizarre plots the two had hatched during their supposed false leadership in the past, Red's active mind swimming with dangerously new concepts of short Irkens donning the ritual dress of the office of Tallest, obliterating the label all together, and forming a democratically run Empire similar to the congress and voting system he had been given the incredible privilege of witnessing on Inquisitoria over several news broadcasts. They had a small, collective Congress of sixteen, one individual presiding over each of the vast regions of the planet, with Prime Minister Sledhob at the pinnacle as the elected figurehead. He was required to listen and act upon issues brought forward to him from his subordinates, signing ledgers and dockets to preserve the wishes voted upon by the public and passed up to their congressmen and women waiting to receive their desires. If he went against these firm words of the public, which Sledhob rarely did, he could be overturned by the collective Congress and their sixteen total signatures could sign a law into action after it was thoroughly reviewed by the Inquisitorian High Court on the other side of the planet. However, the Prime Minister could also contest what the Congress was attempting to push through to his desk for approval, once again sending content he may deem inappropriate, too overly-expensive, or dangerous to the good of his people off to the Inquisitorian High Court where it was then subjected to rigorous evaluations under the Inquisitorian Doctrine of Fundamental Principals, a set of rules and regulations decided upon by the whole of society hundreds of thousands of cycles ago to preserve their delicate, but rigid, code of checks and balances.

This is what Red was hoping to achieve. He wanted to annihilate the office of Tallest altogether, form a coalition of aristocratical leaders to preside over the nineteen different regions of Irk and commune directly with the public there, have his people vote on an experienced, morally upstanding individual to lead as a Prime Minister, and give them a bit of political advice before stepping away from the dastardly office forever. He wanted to make sure the general public completely understood that their influential Empire had fallen and that the planets conquered and utilized by the once intimidating Irken governmental machine had unfortunately broken free in the absence of the iron-fisted Control Brains to brutally rebel, wanting to move down domineering anti-aerospace technological systems to strategic locations on the surface to blow any potential airstrikes out of the atmosphere. They would need to maintain a robust, well-funded military, and Purple had suggested they form another formidable, momentous alliance with Inquisitoria and Sledhob to trade Irken manufactured goods, services, and research opportunities in their natural world for Inquisitorian weapons and foreign aid should the need arise in such a liminal period of their existence. There was still so much that needed to be thought about; Smeeteries, child education, welfare, general taxes, minority rights, how the public was going to feed itself now that their main imports were severed, and the like. Purple had been brought a reader, after having been fervently scolded for removing his IV, and was drafting an incredibly rough, shaky vision of what this system could potentially look like with his impeccable knowledge of social issues while Red ventured down to the first floor to search for his apparently long lost phantom of a Vortian brother. They needed to find him and they needed to find him fast if they were going to leave in time to warp the three hours it was going to take to reach Irk.

"Excuse me," Red reached out for a trembling psychiatric nurse, spinning her around with a light palm to the shoulder when she shouted on impulse, "I'm looking for Captain Lard Nar. I was told he was being evaluated here and I need to speak with him."

The nurse blinked her massive, watery eye and shook her head, her loose jowls swallowing around her mandibles and flopping uselessly in the wind as she tried to leave, only growing testier when Red followed. "No, no, no!" Her Irken was broken and forced as she hunted for the correct words, mumbling hot Inquisitorian curses under her experienced breath. "That one is no good. He run away and be taken by Irosemperius Sledhob."

"Iro…semp…erius?" Red scrunched up his face and mouthed the long, loosely accented word a few times. "Wait, you mean the Prime Minister? Is he here?" Why the hell had Sledhob of all people decided to take Lard Nar?

The ancient, decrepit nurse adjusted her white cap atop her wrinkled head and rolled her eye, jabbing a long feeler to where a team of dutiful drones had stooped to the ground with electric vacuums and clipboards to try and hastily scoop up a sea of jagged glass scattered over the once clean floor from a broken out window.

"He run away!" She repeated in a cloud of heavy annoyance with a flowing accent, stomping off in the other direction to leave Red with more confusing questions than solid answers.

"Wait! Where did they go?" Red called after her, grumbling when she rounded a corner and didn't pay him any lick of attention. "You! Medical drones!" He jabbed a resolute finger down at the hectic team attempting to shy away from Red's infuriating advances. "Where did the Vortian go that I'm…eh…assuming caused all of this?"

A stout psychologist in a bright yellow top and a massive goggle glanced up nervously, shifting on her knees and trying not to cut herself on the sharp glass littered about her skin. "Oh…T-The Captain." She said simply, a touch of forlorn despondency lacing her sweet voice. "He's outside with Prime Minister Sledhob in his ship. Apparently he has been officially pardoned from psychological evaluations, against my wishes I might add, because the Prime Minister appointed him…well….I'll let him tell you that part."

Red blinked and glanced out of the breezy, destroyed window, freezing when he caught sight of two figures, one tall and lanky, the other short and stocky, exiting from Sledhob's gargantuan cerulean flagship and strolling leisurely across the manicured lawn of the hospital as they talked amongst one another. His brother…his best friend was alive and well! Red grinned wildly to himself, pushing the doctor hard to the side as she yelped in surprise before vaulting out of the open window much to her immediate, infuriated protest, landing softly on the grass and taking off to meet his proper guy friend where he chatted lightly with the Prime Minister over important matters he still couldn't fathom.

It didn't take long for Red to reach them, sprinting and straining against the pull of overworked muscle and the strain of infuriatingly wounded tendons before practically tackling Lard Nar to the ground with an elated shout at seeing him upright and in one piece after the horrific toils of the war they had fought together. Sledhob slipped gracefully to the side, letting his amusement get the better of him as he chuckled when Lard Nar yelled in sudden shock, dropping the expensive cigar he had been offered by his new ally and put up a defensive fight against his adopted brother, flying forward uncontrollably upon hair-trigger instinct to wrap his sore arms around Red's waist an attempt to beat him back and force him down to the ground. It worked for a few moments before Red regained his shaky foothold with an excited laugh, grabbing Lard Nar by the petite shoulders and flipping him to sweep him down onto his back, holding back another boisterous chuckle when his horned friend stared up in stunned silence where he panted, glancing to the side to grab for the still smoldering cigar he had tossed away and bring it back to his lips.

"Damn, you're disgusting." Red coughed violently when his friend blew a cloud of sadistic, thick smoke into his face to have the last jab in their mock battle before groaning and pushing himself back up to his aching feet. He looked like total hell; covered head to toe in flowering bruises and deep cuts, a telltale bite wound from Pem's sharp teeth engraved into his skin and definitely going to leave a permanent scar. He was exhausted, his tiny yellow eyes ringed with deep, fatigued circles as he puffed on the first good smoke he had been allowed in days, chewing lightly on the end of the wrapping before flashing Red a wide, ostentatious beam of pure relief accompanied by a strong squeeze of a hug to the shin.

"I was worried you had forgotten about me!" He teased, pulling back when he felt his thick, heavy, emerald broach push against his skin from atop his thin robes. "You look pretty good for someone who has just been through the ringer."

"And you look like total shit for someone who hid behind Purple and I for most of the war." Red jabbed back teasingly, laughing when Lard Nar playfully rolled his eyes and took another long, lung-stinging draw on his pricey cigar.

He thought a moment, eyeing the fourth floor of the hospital with growing apprehension at the mention of his other friend's name. "How is Purple? I haven't been given much information about anyone since I got here and I've been worried out of my mind for hours now."

Red went to open his mouth, cut off by a sudden shout of excitement resounding from the front of the humble hospital. The three turned in time to see Purple crossing expectantly as quickly as he could through the glittering sunlight, waving his reader about with one hand and carefully balancing on a steel crutch with the other.

"They agreed to meet us in 24 hours at the Tallest Tower in Veloria, Red! We're in!" He yelled ecstatically, finally catching up to his partner and slinging an arm around his shoulders to halfway choke him through his giddy exhilaration. "Kez was able to patch through to Irk and the aristocracy wants to hear our proposal tomorrow morning! We have a chance to finally have the Irk we've wanted!"

Red couldn't believe what he was hearing, wrapping his husband in a tight embrace and trying to remember to be gentle with his touch against his still healing abdomen as he was swamped with a dizzying, cosmically overjoyed flush of relief, terror, and horrendously nervous happiness all in the same shaky breath. They had a chance! They actually had a chance to get out of office, reclaim their planet for the better, and live the beautifully accepting life on the surface they both knew they deserved. It was time for a new, more tolerant era of Irken triumph and stunning ingenuity; they were ushering in a time of hopeful peace, glorious independence, and a stunning world where everyone could be proud of their talents and flaws as if everyone was a unique star in their vast, profound night sky.

"W-We really did it?" He breathed against his partner's cheek, feeling his sudden smile fade through the dripping shock when he realized what that drastic, Irk-shattering connotation truly meant. "Holy shit we did it." He mumbled with a thick swallow, pulling back and searching Purple's confused face when a look of sheer, unabridged terror took the color from Red's form and leaked it away against the grass. "Oh, Irk, Pur, we have to go _home_."

Purple blinked in foggy misunderstanding at the bizarre shift in the quickly escalating mood, almost sure Red would have been just as enthralled as he was to speak vibrantly again in front of the masses to bring about such a positive change as this. "Yeah, so? That's what we wanted!" He tried to rile his partner back up for the better, giving up and taking him by the wrist when he turned back to Lard Nar who stared up in dumbfounded silence. "Hey, it'll be ok. We've done this before and we can do it again!"

"But we have to talk to the Irkens that kicked us out!"

"No, the Control Brains kicked us out, Red."

"Still, they didn't defend us either."

"Ugh, honey, they probably didn't have a choice because they were still tethered in the Collective like mindless drones."

"Doesn't that scare you, Purple? I mean, we're going back somewhere we haven't been for nearly eight months and they're literally rioting and setting whole towns on fire. Are we really prepared to deal with something like that? What if this whole thing is a trap to kill us or something?"

"Oh my Irk, Red! This whole thing was your idea in the first place, and we can't back out now! Kez already called, and if we can fight Pem and his entire army we can fight a bunch of stupid aristocrats to do this!"

"Do what, exactly?" Lard Nar exhaled, letting a disgusting cloud of smoke curl lazily from his bruised lungs as he listened to the curious banter unfold in the light above him, squinting against the harsh sun.

Purple shot a look down, nearly forgetting about his companion waiting patiently below. "Number one, hey, Lard Nar. Glad you're alive and didn't get electrocuted. Number two, Red and I are trying to revamp the entire political system of Irk for the better but now he's too _scared_ to actually go through with it!" He jabbed immaturely, narrowing his eyes hotly when his partner returned the gesture, visibly brisling in the heat and holding his lilac eye contact with a vehement stare of his own.

"Woah, hang on a moment." Lard Nar held up a hand and looked to Sledhob for help, who merely grinned in delight at the delicious political upheaval unfolding for his entertainment before him. "You two want to completely overhaul an entire planet overnight? That's impossible! Things like this take whole cycles to achieve! If you try to change the mind of the public just like that," he snapped his good fingers for emphasis, "you're going to have another coup on your hands and the foundations of your planet will completely crumble."

Red rolled his eyes, still locked in a furious, angry stalemate with his husband who refused to let up his dominating, soul-crushing front. "Oh, please! Don't talk to me like you've ever been the leader of anything." He snorted derisively, twitching when Purple gave a curt nod of vehement agreeance before immediately going back to silent war and burning a hole into his lover's forehead. "All you've ever done is lead a group of rebels on to nothing!"

"Actually, I would kindly ask you to hold your tongue, Commander Red." Sledhob spoke up firmly, coming to his ally's aid and stepping forward to officially interject his dominating presence into the intensifying struggle. "Captain Lard Nar now holds dominion over you in rank and you shall talk to him with the respect he deserves."

Purple sneered up at Sledhob's harsh advances, digging his jagged claws into Red's wrist and making him squeal pathetically under his breath and tug away. "Rank? You wanna talk about rank, here? We're commanders. We have dominion over _him_, and why the hell are you even getting in the middle of all of this? It's not your fight, mantis boy, so quit trying to interject your opinions about my planet and how it should be run! I have enough to worry about without your annoying voice getting in the middle of it all!"

"My word, _mantis boy_? You dare talk to the last thread of support you have to your cause with such distaste?!"

"Maybe I do! No one is listening to me, as usual, so I guess I have to get mean for you all to actually hear me for once!"

"Pur, maybe we should-"

"Shut up and stay out of this, Red!"

"This is why you Irkens are considered the lesser race. You fight for pleasure, whereas my people are peaceful and kind. When will you realize that you cannot get anywhere with that kind of appalling attitude?"

"So you're gonna attack my race now?!"

"You're the one who called me a primitive insect!"

"It's the truth, you one-eyed bastard!"

"Filthy space cockroach!"

"Old man!"

"Whiny purple bitch!"

"W-What did you just call me?!"

"Pardon me, I thought we were playing dirty. I called you a _bitch_ because you're acting like one cowering over there behind your husband instead of fighting me like a man! We all know he's the one who wears the pants in your relationship and that you can't make a decision without running crying to him first."

Red threw a defensive hand forward and thrust his finger up at where the irate Prime Minister was beginning to lose his carefully manicured composure. "Don't you dare talk to him like that!" He spat dangerously, cruelly ignoring Lard Nar's frantic pleas when Purple flustered and crossed his arms dejectedly over his chest to pout like a child.

What were they even fighting about at this point?! All of it was becoming a muddy mess of exasperated, pointless insults and absurd slander directed at nothing to overcome the ridiculousness of the stress pouring off in waves between them all. This had been coming for a while, and Lard Nar knew that, running a dejected palm up over his face as his family continued to squabble with one another like animals and move so far away from the original point of their once decent conversation that it was maddingly headache inducing to even listen to.

Sledhob continued with a hot laugh, glaring at where Purple had slunk behind Red's shoulder to shield himself against the hurtful shouts and animalistic hisses shuddering from his jaws. "Talk to him like what? He needs to hear the truth! All you're doing is proving my point by defending him like that!" He shrugged flippantly, yelping when Red cried out and reared back to throw a potent, irately livid punch to his stunned eye.

"I said shut up and leave him alone you pompous, fucking asshole!"

"Everyone just take a step back for a moment and breathe! You all are literally fighting over nothing because you're all frustrated and confused about what to do next and taking it out on one another!" Lard Nar snapped savagely, showing off his rare authority by raising his voice, hammering the three into submission and taking over control of the entire conversation as his irritated gaze vaulted between his three friends itching to rip each other apart from the incredible stress weighting on them all and swallowing them down into nothing. "Sledhob, you're not an insect and let them work this out themselves because it's their planet, not yours! If they want your help they'll ask you, so quit interjecting! Red, listen to your husband because he's smarter than you think and quit backing out of whatever plan you've made because it was your idea! I swear to Vort I'll tear you apart if you throw that punch! Purple, quit whining and realize Red has a point about the dangers here and that not everyone has to listen to your opinion all the time! You're not a bitch and you proved that when you saved our planets!" He yelled vehemently, forcing everyone's gazes to soften and divert to the ground. "We just got back from war and I'll be dammed if I let any of you go to war with yourselves so just shut up and listen for once! I do have dominion over you, and I order you all to be quiet so I can think!"

Stunned silence.

No one spoke for a few long moments, crossing arms and refusing to make any form of coherent eye contact as the tiny bundle of boiling hatred and antagonism seethed and chewed furiously on the costly, stinking tobacco held between his lips, horns twitching as he paced and mumbled irately to himself about how immature his brothers were being with one another and how he didn't want to deal with any more surprises after the weighty bombshell the Prime Minister had thrust into his unsuspecting lap.

"I'm sorry, gentlemen." Prime Minister Sledhob finally piped back up, shivering mandibles wracked with thick, oozing guilt. "That may have been a bit…uncouth of me."

"Uncouth my ass." Red grumbled, immediately clamping his mouth shut when Purple elbowed him hard in the ribs. "Ugh, fine. I'm sorry too."

Purple sighed, refusing to make eye contact when his partner stepped aside to let him get in on their demeaning, but necessary apologies. "And I guess you're not a mantis." He allowed a tiny smile to peak back on his face when Sledhob completely forgot about their argument, grinning back with his usual enthusiasm and letting everything go to the wayside.

Wow. They had really stooped pretty low, huh?

"You keep saying dominion." Purple spoke up, scooting back over to brush his shoulder in a silent apology against his partner's, somewhat happy when he reluctantly returned the fleeting touch with one of his own to seal their hasty reconciliation. His wide, unsure gaze lagged down to the huge, opulent broach clasped against his friend's chest and halfway swallowing his shoulder as he had some sort of odd internal conflict with himself. "What…eh…what is that?"

Lard Nar jolted out of his growing blackout, reaching up with hesitant hands to grasp at the ancient responsibility eating away at him he was still reeling from. He wavered, biting his lip and calming down to a light simmer as his hectic pacing drew stagnant. "Well…how to I put this?" He mumbled under his breath, trying to rationalize what he himself still didn't understand and couldn't come to terms with fully. "Please, don't panic when I tell you but-"

"Would you just say it?" Red reached up with his free hand to rub irritatingly at his temples, growing obnoxiously annoyed with the unnecessary, pointless talk they were all spiraling into. "We have a lot to do and we need to get going."

Lard Nar took a deep breath, feeling a wave of anxiety induced nausea flood over him, stammering out the grueling intensity of the position he had reluctantly agreed to, though he had no idea what he was really doing or how to fulfill the needs of the office. "I-I'm…um…w-well…I'm King of Vort."

Red immediately burst into insufferable laughter when Purple's jaw dropped in astonished disbelief, unsure of what to say when Lard Nar wrung his hands in spiraling uneasiness at the unexpectedly flippant reaction. "Oh, man. That's a good one!" He opened his eyes and immediately stopped his mirth when he noticed everyone was staring him down with expectation, feeling his spooch drop and his slow, skeptical gaze trail back down to the gargantuan emerald stamped proudly over his friend's shoulder. "Wait…no way." He leaned down for a closer look, eyes lighting up with a mixture of humiliated fervor at having been so blind to the obvious and terrible shock at having found out that someone so close to him was ascending to such a high position. "No way! T-That's impossible! You...you're so little!"

"Red!" Purple snapped, irritated by the lack of respect his partner had sometimes. "Who cares if he's little?!"

Lard Nar flashed him a nervous smile when he tried to rationalize the weighty importance of who's presence he was now standing in. "I-I don't want this to change our relationship. You're still my brother and anything you need you can always count on me to-"

"You're a King?! When did this happen?!" Red threw his hands out in front of him, flinching when Sledhob gingerly ushered them all through the open hatch of his slowly warming flagship to take their leave, glancing behind him to give a final, warm glance to the hospital before the massive port closed behind them.

* * *

**Three hours into warp; the ravaged atmosphere surrounding the once stable planet of Irk;**

Lard Nar had feverishly explained over hushed conversations and delicious, amber brandy in Sledhob's opulent office exactly what the Prime Minister had told him hours before. Former King Pol Krin's doctrine was brandished as crimson and amethyst eyes alike hastily scanned the strange, vibrant flourishes of old Vortian script giving up the unfathomable permissions to elect the next ruler of Vort over to Ab Sledhob himself, who in turn deemed it appropriate to delegate the whole of the completely destroyed Empire and raped, imprisoned culture to the unsteady, nervous hands of Lard Nar. Lard Nar; the one Vortian in the entire Universe who had formed and destroyed the Resisty, enjoyed getting stoned out of his mind in his free time on a variety of exotic drugs, and had no concept of leadership beyond what he had done for the IRM under Red's instruction. Still, Sledhob had remained firmly adamant that he was the one necessary and needed to pull Vort out of it's horrendous, vicious dark age and into a new era of peace and renewed power, something Red wanted to scoff violently at but Purple's steady squeeze of his hand suggested he keep his vehement opinions to himself. According to Vortian social custom, anyone deemed worthy to take the influential position of King or Queen by the selected force with enough authority to make the decision had no choice in the matter and was required by law to step up to power within a sixty day grace period, giving their friend only two short months to plan and prepare for his ascension to the holiest throne of his people. In the duration of their flight to Irk, Lard Nar had broken down and cried twice over the unbearable, mind-numbing stress and disorienting number of influential tasks that had to be done in order to even begin to find proper housing for the millions of displaced citizens that were going to soon be turning to him for all the answers after the announcement and official pullout of Irk from the surface. It was too much too quickly, and everyone had resorted to simply smoking together in disgusted silence and pumping their veins with liquid courage in the form of strong alcohol.

Even after the Collective-IRM Conflict, they were still a disgusting mess. Lard Nar was expected to step up against his will and take on an entire planet he had no idea how to even begin to properly rule through his disturbed mental state, Purple was running around with a hole in his side as he went against his surgeon's instructions to rest for a week and prepared the shaky, ridiculous foundations of their political project, Red was on the verge of a stifling identity crisis as he tried to root through Sledhob's personal closet on the ship to find something relatively nice to wear, and Sledhob himself was as giddy as ever with his feet slung over the edge of his desk and blue smoke curling from his lungs as he soaked in the mayhem. Not to mention Teem was blind and completely broken and Kez was barely holding it all together back on Inquisitoria.

Perfect. Just perfect.

The surface of the planet was appalling, Sledhob sending out a few docked ships to run slow, tentative recon over the surface and scope out the sheer extent of the damage his intelligence team had been closely monitoring up deck. Red's pulse had shot through the roof and Purple's blood pressure had dropped as his head hung in his hands at the appalling vision of nauseating devastation splayed over the wide transmission screen brought up to Sledhob's office for them to watch the sickening pandemonium live. Once beautiful cities and formidable centers of Irken engineering were looted and set ablaze in the confusion by their own citizens, sadistic riots were waged in the disgusting boulevards of Veloria where open shootouts and gang factions had erupted to take advantage of the shift in power, and it was thought that precious DNA was being siphoned from prestigious Smeeteries dotted about the surface to sell on the black market for a hefty price. Smeet outposts fifty miles below the surface had been trapped and quarantined to keep their frightened young safe from the raging intensity of the mind-altering violence their tiny psyches were not yet equipped to handle, and soldiers of all ranks and creeds had defected to form their own improvised groups of civil warriors bent on staking claim on government territories that were not theirs to take. It was a disaster…a black plague of fierce viciousness and bloody gore spilled over mangled bodies and horrendous carnage left behind in the savage wake of Pem and the Control Brains.

The war wasn't over like they had thought. It was only just beginning.

Kez had called halfway through their rickety flight to inform them that the Veloria aristocracy had been holed up in the Tallest Tower for two days since the emergence of rebel factions had swept viciously over their singed, terrorized city, vehemently demanding that the former Tallest keep as far away as possible through the night as they attempted to bite back the insurgency with their own meager ground force. Purple had suggested they remain in orbit around the planet just outside of the protective cover of the dusty ring, claiming that no ships of any caliber would be able to penetrate here. Unfortunately, Sledhob's men had run into brutal, unforeseen trouble immediately after when a rogue team of Shuuver opened fire upon their flagship, tearing through the outer cooling units with heavy plasma cannons and forcing the massive ship to careen down towards the surface of the planet for safe landing before they were obliterated completely and burned through the friction of the stratosphere. He had gone to the bridge with Purple to evaluate the unanticipated damage raking through the ship's exoskeleton, relying on his mechanical expertise to hastily run over the external pandemonium zipping about viciously around them through the sky as Stingers were unfortunately dispatched to engage, opening up an aerial dogfight that had Red itching where he sat for action. His requests to take to the battle were furiously denied as Purple's long fingers danced over electronic schematics against the blare of screeching alarm bells, quickly remembering something pertinent he had all but forgotten in the terror.

Naphrus 8.

The ship's anti-gravity systems had been torn to shreds but the Shuuver had been successfully intercepted and destroyed in fiery balls of passionate aggression and substantially bloodthirsty rage, Sledhob's expert pilots ringing the ship in a defensive formation as Purple had quickly explained to the panicked, sweaty crew that he and a team of Inquisitorian mechanics could help to restore the sanctity of the violently injured ship from the outpost down the street from Teem and Kez's bar, The Smash, where he had fruitfully brought a rusted Viral Tank back online at the beginning of the conflict. The Prime Minister had no choice but to agree to the terms and conditions his friend was proposing, setting his coordinates for the backwater, faint ping radiating from the Naphrus Airbase Red had ran so long ago in his prime. From there it was a near ninety-degree shot to the tiny rural town of Naphrus 8, a glowing beacon of optimistic faith and, hopefully, untouched by the hands of the fierce chaos and bewildering upheaval raging in Irk's major cities around the devastated globe. They had landed in the town square, knocking aside ancient statues of Tallest long since deceased as imperial guards swept the surrounding area with loaded rifles, expertly kicking in doors and tearing down improvised sheds to find that everyone who had once been here was now long gone to join in the violent battle raging inland from the coast. Homes were completely abandoned and coated in anarchist graffiti, discarded fire pits were left to smolder and blacken in their own coals, and Teem and Kez's bar had been burgled for every drop of stinging alcohol they could find.

Red had led the front when Sledhob had grabbed for his electric spear, the two stalking carefully at the head of the others to protect Purple and Lard Nar from harm as they made their way across the open square to the obliterated hinges of their friends' business, appalled by the sorry state that the once vibrant club had become. Nothing remained of it anymore as ghostly breezes and wraithlike whistles poured through the shattered picture windows to caress the gently swaying chandelier of the petite dance hall, a few gory bodies scattered here and there piled up in corners from some form of violent struggle over the panic and scarcity of resources stunk up the surrounding area with metallic blood. Guards moved the dead out back as Red instructed Purple to wait behind the formidable metal of the bar with the King for their own safety, breaking down the securely locked back room to find that no one else had been able to sink their greedy claws into the exquisiteness and inviolability of the heavily armored, drug fueled IRM stronghold Teem had once built. Dozens of heavy long rifles with modern scopes, plasma ammunition cartridges, dry food rations, and glass jugs of spiced rum littered the proverbial war house as Red reached out and ran his hands over the impressive work his oldest friend had managed to throw together with her meager provisions and pension.

Damn. Teem was a machine.

They moved on, securing the weapons bastion before setting to work inching their way into Teem and Kez's personal home along the back of the bar. It too had been left fairly untouched, the only things missing at first glance being a few fluffy blankets from their plush white loveseat and their expensive transmitter they used to watch ridiculous daytime talk shows about failed families. Their fridge had been overturned onto its heavy side and a disgusting sticky juice had coated the tile and solidified into a gelatinous, gooey mess, scattered with Teem's prescription pain pills someone had undoubtedly dug their greedy hands into for a quick high before taking off. Whoever it was had left a long while ago, two sets of cold tracks stuck through the orange mess coating the kitchen floor as the scent of rebel pheromones lingered faintly in the air and alerted Red's keen senses that no one else remained in the quarters.

"Pur?" He looked over his shoulder and called back to the open door as Sledhob's guards poked innocently at the now dusty knick-knacks Teem had collected for her lovely wife over her years of extensive intergalactic travel.

Purple quickly appeared in the open doorway, Lard Nar hot on his heels when Red officially let down his defenses and waved him over, glancing out through the bulletproof glass of the living room someone had unsuccessfully attempted to shoot their way through before giving up. The light was quickly dwindling as dusk approached and glittering starlight leisurely revealed itself like swathes of glitter thrown up against magenta felt, setting the hook of unease back in Red's spooch as his partner waited expectantly for what was to come next.

"Alright, there's no way we're getting that ship fixed in the dark." Red turned on his heel and addressed the amassing crowd formally as they pooled in around him to listen intently with bated breath. "I propose we stay here for the night. Teem obviously has this place reinforced and I trust her handiwork over sitting out there in the ship and waiting for someone to jump us."

Sledhob slammed the heavy tip of his spear down hard on the ground with a firm nod. "You heard the man! I want Alpha Team staying with the ship to guard against technological looters throughout the duration of the night, while Beta Team is called to stay here with us for protection of Commanders Red and Purple and King Lard Nar. We shall be venturing out to the capitol of Veloria at noon tomorrow to meet with the Irken aristocracy there and discuss the alliance with not only them but the incredibly important reworking of the political system of the planet. I shall be joining my colleagues to provide support should the conversation turn deadly. Do I make myself clear?"

The troop saluted in near unison with a chant of compliance in fluid Inquisitorian before breaking formation and hastily getting to work taking their positions and moving in dry food rations from Teem's stash to feed the growing army they had once again amassed on accident, Red turning back to Purple to flash him a look of weary complacency before striding on towards the guest room to think.

"Hey, Sledhob? Where are you going to sleep?" Purple asked, letting his partner go and flinching when he slammed the door behind him for some much-needed space to mull over the re-escalating war he was sure they had gotten themselves out of. Everything had been nice for a few hours while it had lasted, but Pem's dominating, disgusting grip over society had been horrifically intense, breaking citizens to the brink of their threshold and teaching them that violence was the way to solve their answers.

Pem…why did he ever have to exist in the first place?

Sledhob glanced about, removing his tall battle crown and smiling innocently when he caught sight of a high, plush bed from Teem and Kez's personal bedroom. "Ah! Yes! I have a bad back so that will do nicely!" He didn't wait for Purple to respond, snatching a bag of crunchy snack food from one of his guards before sauntering off and locking himself away to lounge in the velvety goodness of his stolen safehold.

Lard Nar had already settled himself into the couch, curling up out of exhaustion to finally sleep for once in days as he wordlessly clutched his irreplaceable broach to his chest and buried into a stiff cushion before going completely limp with a low sigh. Guards of all heights continued to pour in and out of the room, eventually locking it behind them and settling down on the floor with pillows and blankets they had retrieved from their personal bunks on the flagship, brandishing well-worn playing cards and talking in hushed whispers as they munched carelessly on cycles of build up rations and shucked tight uniforms to succumb to the beautiful embrace of blissful sleep for the first time since the first wave of conflict.

When would it end?

When would they finally have a place to call home that didn't want them dead?

Purple sighed and let himself sulk, trudging on towards the guest room when he was all but ignored and feeling dastardly images of their forlorn future play behind his exhausted ocular lenses. He and Red were destined for warfare. It ran in their blood now, ate away at their frazzled consciousness and took them by the throats to drag then forcibly back into the darkness every time they tasted the sweet sugar of the light. There was no heaven. There was no escape. There was only death, violence, destruction, and agonizing pain laying in wait like a long serpent slithering through the grass of their tomorrow to bite at sensitive ankles and inject the venom of poverty and homelessness into their crippled souls.

Why?

Why was a question Purple was beginning to despise over all others because it had no answer, drowning out the faint clinking of scaly armor when he opened the door his spouse had torn off through and gingerly shut it behind him, met with the familiar lingering scent of the beautiful, art covered guest room he and Red had come together in for the first time. It was here that their lengthy story truly sparked, here that his powerful partner had admitted to his shaky, unnerved mystification about his own wavering sexuality as Purple breathed and moaned out his confusing, newfound pleasure softly against his skin. It used to be a warm, balmy paradise for fiery touches and impassioned kisses rocketing through his memories to come to, but now…now it was cold. Cold and desolate and uninviting with its dreadfully cheery paintings staring back at his despondency like they were mocking him through the shadows. It felt like nothing, an uninfluential numbness drawing on a lack of emotional awareness as Purple's antennae pricked to the sound of hot liquid splashing and cascading in the cleansing room, taking a few slow, dejected steps towards the anchor of a noise beckoning him on through the crack in the doorway.

Peculiar.

It was here that Red had brought Purple alcohol after their appalling torture at the hands of the then New Resisty under Urb Yen's fleeting, false rule, Red's scarred back to his partner as he reclined against the lip of the tiny cleansing pool filling with reddish, sizzling bromine. Purple could feel it in the air, smell it pouring off of his husband in waves as he sunk down and submerged himself in the blistering liquid to hide away from the cruel world holding them captive; he was overthinking again. They had run over what they wanted to say to the Veloria aristocracy a few times in Sledhob's office, practicing with one another the well-manicured speech they had slapped haphazardly together to cram as many weighty, dire ideas into the short time frame they would probably be allotted. It wasn't much and, if Purple was being honest with himself, it was horrendously pathetic. They had rushed into this without thinking, getting excited over the idea and prospect that they could reclaim Irk and finally be free to get married and have the blissfully ignorant life of sweets and late night movies they craved, but that wasn't how real life worked. They should have known that…should have prepared.

Now they were here and they had to do this.

If they messed up, they would have to leave Irk forever.

Purple couldn't think clearly past the tear-inducing numbness forming a rock hard, hollow pit in his spooch, reaching up and smoothing a hand over his jittery antennae before finally padding over the cool tile of the cleansing room to lock the door behind him. He wanted to be with Red, but why was the whole of the damn universe so bent on throwing them in the middle of proverbial firestorms and burning them to nothing more than a wretched pile of ash? He set his crutch to the side, leisurely propping it up against the wall when Red resurfaced with a gasp and wiped the liquid from his face with firm fingers. He struggled to slip out of his gown and kick it to the side, happy to finally be free of gaudy Inquisitorian attire for once in favor of the beautiful feeling of temperate, soft bromine and the gentle caress of his partner's strong, calloused hands trailing over his body. He squinted forward towards the mirror across the room, catching sight of his war-torn body for the first time and cringing at the terrible, raised scar slowly closing over is bruised ribcage and the gnarly tug of deep stitches holding him in place. He looked terrible; his once beautiful, untarnished skin turned to something monstrous under his robes by the single shot of a fiery plasma bolt to the chest. It was Pem's final gift to him, a way to stay in the back of his mind until the end of Purple's hopefully long life and to stare him in the eye with that wiry, nasty smile every time he looked down and caught sight of that appalling mess.

Red glanced up and noticed the growing look of shame and humiliation plastered over his partner's face, turning to face him when he placed a hand over his wound to hide it away from his husband's eyes. "Don't do that." He whispered suddenly, standing and pulling himself quickly from the bathing pool to stride forward tug away his lover's hands.

"Stop it." Purple pushed him away and refused to make any form of coherent eye contact as guards laughed wildly in the background over their card game, dipping a toe in the searing hot, reassuring liquid he wanted nothing more than to drown in at the moment. Was he allowed to get in with his stitches still in place? Did it even matter at this point?

Red followed as he shivered violently in the cool air, watching with mounting concern when his partner sunk down into the bath with a pained hiss, clutching at his excruciating side before exhaling all at once as the sting flooded away and melted into the comforting, beautifully soothing heat. He wanted to with all his might to smile, trying to let it peak on his weary face but feeling the lucid, unbearable frustration of the tomorrow to come stabbing him straight in the chest and wiping away his happiness like chalk. It was almost as if he wasn't allowed to be happy, like some disgusting, unfruitful past life had wrought terrible, agonizingly filthy karma over his existence and dammed him to suffer.

"You're still beautiful, you know." Red opted to sit on the edge of the pool, dangling his legs over is partner's shoulders and smiling softly when he leaned back into his hold. "Nothing in this life will ever make you ugly."

Purple rolled his eyes and let his hands flutter up to smooth over Red's shins, shaking his head at the absurdity of the comment he knew was thrown out to make him feel better. "You don't have to lie to me. I know I'm not pretty anymore." He mumbled resolutely, admitting defeat to a fate he had hoped would never come. "This whole thing…I dunno, I just feel like I'm ruined at this point."

"Ruined? Are you serious?" Red's hands lapped tenderly over his smooth, bare shoulders when he leaned forward, pressing a feather light kiss to the base of Purple's antennae with soft lips. He tried to find a way to counter his husband's despondent claims, coming up horrifically short and resorting to speaking with his languid movements.

"Don't, Red. I'm not in the mood." Purple shoved him back again when he slunk slowly down between them, splashing his partner in the chest before trying to move in and steal a sincere kiss to his lips to ignite the passion they hadn't been able to have for a few weeks through tired training days and long war-ravaged nights. "The walls are thin here, remember? I don't want anyone hearing us and thinking I'm your bitch."

Red shied away with a hurt blink, Purple's words stinging him to his core as he tried to understand just what that really meant for the two of them. Did Purple really think that? No..._Sledhob_ thought that, or at least had used it to get under his partner's delicate, fragile skin and peel him back to rub salt in every festering wound of injured self confidence he had kept carefully hidden.

"Pur, that's stupid. You're not my…bitch." Red didn't even want to say the word, cringing a bit when it left his tongue and noticing Purple blink in response to the awful, sickening false truth he somehow felt it carried. "You're my equal and you always have been. You know that."

Purple merely shrugged and leaned back against the hard porcelain behind him, scooping up a handful of bromine to try and scrub away the disgusting smell of lingering hospital antiseptic clinging to his body and making him ill to think about every time it fluttered up past his antennae. "Whatever." He shut his eyes and let his head loll back, stalks going limp as he sighed into the relaxing warmth and geniality of the bath and tried to forget everything he had seen and heard in the past few days.

Why did their ally have to say something so cruel to someone so beautiful? Sure, Purple was fragile and glassy in thought, an innocent, magnificent mess of unsaid sweet nothings and soft, sweet scents tantalizing to the senses, but he was now a soldier. Purple had popped his combat cherry and survived, had seen the very worst of his goriest, most gruesome nightmares slip through his fingers, had been splashed by the gooey, hot blood of his men and companions, and had played dirty on the ravaged frontlines of Judgementia where no one followed the regimented needs of war and resorted to rough organ piercing and backstabbing. He had been utterly humiliated, damaged, pushed around, stepped on, and shot. He wasn't the lovely flower everyone seemed to think he still was; he was a formidable warrior and the potent, dominant survivor Red had hoped to mold him into like liminal clay. He didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve the utter frustration of everyone seeing him for something he wasn't, still pushing him around with words and facetious reassurances he no longer needed in his already exasperating life. They were about to go up against the Veloria aristocracy and bend to the wills of the shorter public to try and solidify some kind of flimsy agreement to bring their rioting, chaotic planet back to some semblance of normalcy, and all Purple was worried about was others labeling him as less than Red?

Did Red really wear the pants in their relationship?

He leaned in, wrapping an arm around Purple's shoulders as he thought about the strange accusation and toyed with the tepid liquid with his fingers, slowly realizing that it may actually be right in some odd, demented way. He had asked Purple to be his boyfriend, he had taken the lead to plan their dates, he made all of the decisions, he took the reins in battle, and he had decided to ask Purple to marry him. While most of it was lovely and for the good of them both, and Purple had never complained before towards any of his kindhearted, romantic advances and had actually enjoyed them to the fullest extent of what his partner could give, Red had always shied away from any form of dominance his partner displayed because of his own lucid, uncomfortable insecurities. Purple had tried to initiate some things a few times and Red had explained through his own humiliation as a control freak and need to have a sense of firm ascendancy over everything that he held that he wasn't necessarily comfortable with letting his now husband take what he wanted in an intimate sense. Purple had been patient and loving, consenting to Red's needs while putting his own experimental desires as a male to the sidelines in favor of making his partner happy.

Huh.

Red glanced quickly to the side to where his lover was beginning to doze casually, sinking deeply into his cradling, hospitable relaxation and eating up the feeling of having an actual, peaceful bath for once with his spouse without the angry calls of their students or Lard Nar coming in and asking incessantly for advice. He let his scrutinizing gaze trail down his collarbone, the gentle rise and fall of his chest, and lower to where the liquid frustratingly obscured his lower half from view, only causing the mounting color flooding to Red's face to escalate. He toyed with Purple's fingers in his, running the pads of his digits over his knuckles as strange, unwarranted thoughts began to bounce and lilt through his psyche and cause him to squirm slightly where he was pressed to his partner's slick skin. What would they feel like…his fingers? Red had dominated his way through the Academy, raked his way through hundreds of female officers and even had fiery Teem pinned against her desk at one point, but had never submitted himself over to anyone else in the way he had taken so often. It was too venerable, too unknown and foreign to have someone so close and so intimately invested in the feeling of his body under their exploring hands.

But this wasn't just anyone…was it?

Red was married. He didn't have to worry about the prospect of humiliation in the morning or Purple dumping him because he didn't know what to do or sounded funny under the wide lens of all-encompassing, exhaustive sex. He was here and he was here to stay, a safe haven and guiding light in the profound, yawning monster of darkness nipping at their heels and chasing them across the cosmos wherever they went. He had already seen Red for what he was, heard every sound he could possibly make, felt every movement and tasted every flavor of his scarred body and loved every second of the incredible torture. Red shifted slightly, pressing closer into Purple's good side and meeting his gaze when he opened his eyes with an irritated frown for what he thought was coming. Purple wasn't his bitch and Red wasn't his; they were equals.

They were equals.

"Red I said I didn't want to-"

"D-Do you…would you…" Red began, staring down between them at nothing when Purple leaned forward suspiciously and tried to meet his gaze. He couldn't form words properly, lost in the strange, exotic idea of giving over his carefully guarded control and life to someone so emotive and tender…to someone with still soft hands and softer eyes capable of unraveling him deliciously and lighting the fire under him that couldn't be tamed unless it was fanned first.

Right now, Purple was unknowingly fanning that flame.

Red took his captured hand and shakily moved forward, pressing his palm experimentally against the side of his face and holding him there with a firmness he tried to force away so as to not look as nervous as he felt. "You're not my bitch and…I want to prove that to you. W-Would you?" He breathed again, hoping with every fiber of his screaming being that Purple got the point and flinching when his loving fingers curled gently into Red's cheekbone.

He stared at him for a few long moments, searching his partner's chastened, completely mortified face and getting lost in the feeble color he wasn't sure was from the heat of the bath or the heat of something else swirling between them like a tidepool. He didn't know what to say, almost positive he was laying in bed peacefully dreaming away like he had imagined so many times before, drinking in the sweet deliciousness of what he fantasized his partner's body would feel like.

Did he really want this?

"U-um. You do know what you're asking, right? That's a big step for you." Purple settled on, feeling his breath hitch when Red took his hand and drug his smooth palm down the length of his neck, squeezing his eyes shut before trailing lower, growing shakier with every inch closer to his target he grew. "Holy…um…wow." He leaned in when Red let go and bit his lip, tentatively placing both his shaky hands on his husbands shoulders to encourage him to explore on his own when he pressed flush to his chest and buried his face in the crook of his neck to hide his growing embarrassment.

"I know what I'm asking." His voice was small but firm, a ghost of a sound met with a bit of resistance when Purple experimentally sighed against him and slid lower, mapping every familiar curve and silky bone his fingers could possibly find and nervously smiling when Red pushed back into his touch to delightfully persuade him on. "Just…you can…um…y-you can touch me if you'd like."

Purple felt his pulse escalate and his senses deaden and dull at the overwhelming sensation of Red's warm mouth smeared sloppily against the nape of his neck with every naturally intoxicated word, digging into his shoulders with his sharp claws at the subtle anticipation of long fingers hesitantly moving to his hips as he held his breath.

"Does that mean you _want_ me to?" Purple asked, needing a final reassurance of wholehearted consent before he moved on to experiment with the rapid heartbeat pounding under his touch and the shivering body trying to maintain a slipping grip on control against his. "You've never done this…it's different than the other way. I don't want you to do this because you want to make me feel better."

Almost immediately, Red pulled back and brought their mouths together, rolling forward to try and gain more needed friction as his partner moved against him and lit up his nervous system in strange, scrumptious ways he had never experienced. This was a whole new side to mating, an exciting thrill of a once fictitious hunt gripping at his fluttering spooch and screaming at him to keep going, to have a taste of what it felt like to be taken completely for the first time by the one being he loved more than anyone else in the universe. He took a deep breath against Purple's now cocky smirk, knowing he finally understood his hazy, unstable reasons as he practically smothered him against the side of the bath and arched into every tiny, featherlight touch and sweet, blistering hot kiss moved down his jawline to tease him into a gorgeous inferno of submission he had never felt before.

This was so new to them both, movements never once indulged in as the tables flipped and mouthwatering dominance changed, soft hands trailing up timid, gradually parting thighs and back down to numb and sedate any feelings of lurid doubt hanging precariously in the air. Every raised scar, every agonizing past burn and cut from violent enemy fire, every long cut like braille splayed over Red's flawed skin Purple had come to worship and read as his own bible. His imperfection was perfection in the strangest of ways, every inaudible sigh and swallowed down plea for him to finally touch that carefully hidden, delicately forbidden place like a rapture of a song against his antennae. He drew it out, massaging into his partner's skin and picking him apart in individual threads, tossing every insecurity, every fear of losing his precious, guarded control to the aether as Red scrambled to run his shaky hands up behind neck and groaned into the strange, foreign sensation of hands so close to a place so familiar but never travelled by curious fingers.

"How come every time we're at Teem and Kez's place you get curious?" Purple teased, stealing another long, steadily deepening kiss to Red's lips and laughing when he tried to chase him back when he pulled away. "Have you…eh…ever touched here before? I mean, like in the way you've done to me?"

Red almost didn't register the salacious, risqué question, exhaling erratically to the burning sensation of long fingertips creeping up between his legs and hovering just out of frustrating, mind-numbing reach. "No." He managed to squeak out, discomfort fading to be replaced with a shuddering gasp that caught him off guard when Purple carefully massaged a gentle, soothing finger along the length of his slit.

Delicious. Red was absolutely delicious. There was something incredibly erotic and enormously sexy about the bizarre way his partner clamped a hand over his hot mouth to hold his breath when Purple continued to cruelly tease him, dipping a single finger into the incredibly gooey mess his untangling partner was melting into just from the mere thought of him moving further. Purple shook his head with a reassuring shush and a rogue hand trailing up to rub at the sensitive seam of his PAK, pulling his fingers back completely and feeling Red try to follow him down unconsciously into the bromine with a breathless whine, blinking through his rapidly fading discomfort when Purple motioned silently for him to pull himself free from the bath and sit along the edge of the pool.

For once in his life, Red didn't put up a violent protest, but nodded instead from behind half lidded eyes and immediate, undying compliance to get what he never knew he would ever crave so desperately. He hoisted himself up in one fluid motion, hissing and shivering when the chilly air hit his balmy skin and shocked him back into the moment, clamping his knees together when Purple moved forward with a deep, completely invested interest to know what his lover was going to sound like, how he would move and writhe against him, how frantic he would become under the fiery weight of his practiced touch.

"It's fucking cold, you asshole." Red somehow managed a complaint, forgetting almost immediately when the coy, cruel artlessness flashing behind his partner's now murky ocular lenses pierced his psyche and delightfully blinded him to everything else other than that sweltering color thumping through his veins. "Oh, fuck, Pur. This is so weird."

Purple slid forward and peeled his target's knees apart, giggling when Red looked away with lingering embarrassment at the uncomfortable sensation of air hitting places he wasn't accustomed to. "Why is it weird? We've evolved to have these parts so why not use them?" He licked his lips and reached up, watching carefully when Red stiffened at the same tentative motion of comforting, gentle fingers pressing against him. "And I'm _gonna_ use them."

Red completely lost any remaining power to his stoic voice when Purple inched back down to toy with his dripping entrance, splaying him completely with his free hand and trying to draw an unashamed, brazen moan from his partner's lips, satisfied when Red tried to crane forward to push the hovering tip of his finger into his hungry body. He never thought he would want this. If someone had told him a full cycle ago that his then best friend would be devilishly fingering him and delightfully encouraging him under his breath, he would have thought they were insane. Now, in the heat of the gorgeous, pacifying moment, Purple was the one driving him insane, only giving him light, horrendously teasing slips against his tight walls as he worked him open at his cruel leisure, humming enthusiastically when Red finally unfurled completely and pleaded to be touched.

Purple had him exactly where he wanted him.

Without warning he leaned in and ran his hot, slippery tongue along the underside of his partner's member, slowly inching in a single finger when his lips were met with his squirming tip begging for access to his warm, wet mouth. Red cried out and flew down to grab at his partner's antennae when he enthusiastically gave him exactly what he wanted, letting his jaw go slack to accommodate everything his long tongue and precarious gag reflex could take. His voice was gorgeous; a sweltering, glowing symphony of now unashamed moans with every curl of his long finger deep inside his impatient body and flick of his tongue lusciously swallowing him down for everything he was as Red shook in his dominating, but utterly worshipping hold. He felt incredible, clamping down involuntarily to squeeze around him every time he threatened to pull back and leave him without the extraordinary, mind-blowing feeling of being powerfully stimulated in two astoundingly vivid ways at once.

Red tired to stay still and enjoy the irresistible sensations moving inside him for the first time, focusing on the bizarre waves of electric heat flooding up over his spine with every shallow thrust his impish partner gave him, intensified by the powerful feeling of his enthusiastic mouth bobbing devotedly between his trembling legs and slimy ribbed tongue curling to squeeze around him.

Purple pulled back with a coy pop and a completely satisfied, breathless giggle, watching in anxious awe as he moved his fingers away to slowly press a second at Red's still virgin slit, sighing in astounded fascination when he barely accommodated them both to the first knuckle. "Oh, man, Red. You're really tight. I dunno if you're gonna be able to take me this time around." He pointed out the obvious, tone wavering when he attempted to sink a bit deeper but stopped when his partner's grip on his antennae intensified. "Does it hurt?"

Red didn't understand what he was feeling, the uncanny sensation of the beginning fringes of fullness causing his PAK and threadbare rationality to spark in tandem and come out as something mixed into a garbled moan and harsh, angry beg for Purple to stop talking and keep moving.

"Oh…so you _like_ it then?" Purple breathed, wanting his partner to watch as his patient fingers sunk deep inside him. "Look at me, baby."

Red shook his head, stuck on the edge of sanity and trying to roll forward, whining in frustration when Purple reached up with his free hand and held him back as his expression darkened to one of predatory, haunting desire.

"I'm in control right now." He reminded softly, tone laced with something deep and delectably menacing. "If you want me to move, you'll look at me when I tell you to. And I'm telling you to do it _now_."

Domination.

The thing Red hated more than anything, despised with every red-hot fiber of his chaotic being, but in the moment when Purple's callous fingers hovered just inches from the incredible, amazingly enticing sweet spot he never knew he had, Red wanted nothing more than to be verbally brutalized in all the right ways. He slowly let his milky, glazed eyes flutter open to latch on to the opaque mysteriousness eyeing him firmly back, gasping sharply and struggling desperately to maintain his fading focus when Purple pushed forward again and forced him wider than he had ever been. It was immedialty bruising, painful, and unexpectedly bizarre but profoundly satisfying, Red clenching his teeth and moving to grip at the side of the bath for better purchase when Purple pushed up and stood, lowering him back against the freezing tile to assault his partner's mouth with a fervent barrage of untamed, messy kisses as Red let go and scrambled to dig his claws into his back. He cried out sharply when Purple began to move, rocking their bodies in tandem to simulate the gorgeous feeling of fullness that was to come as he gave another tentative thrust, feeling as much of Red as he could and hunting for the elusive spot hidden inside him that would cause him to see stars. It didn't take long, his well-practiced touch grazing amiably up into his slick sweet spot and grinning wildly when Red threw his head back and all but screamed his name as he neared the dangerous, blistering edge and spasmed around his touch, knowing the rest of the imperial guard outside their guest room could hear his husband's pleasure filled moans and delicious cries echoing through the halls and letting them know exactly how fantastic he was feeling under the dominion of someone everyone thought was a delicate flower. He didn't care if they heard, the very thought of showing off his lewd power and skilled hands to the rest of their improvised crew, for letting them know without the shadow of a doubt that his fingers were buried in Irk's most powerful, formidable ace pilot and drawing the constant string of mewling begs and pleads from his mouth, reminded Purple that he didn't have to be Tallest to be on top of the world.

Red _was_ his world…and he was definitely determined to be on top of him. Or maybe something a tiny bit more creative.

He moved his fingers away, relishing in the mouthwatering, risqué feeling of his still incredibly constricted partner squeezing around him as he left before taking him by the jaw and tugging him up to a sit as Red let his own hands trail down to palm at his blown out, unsatisfied entrance. It wasn't enough. He was stuck hovering on the dangerous edge of spilling, hovering between steely irritation and intoxicated elation at Purple's surprisingly gentle, but also infuriatingly cruel, teasing. Purple hoisted himself completely free from the bath and laid back, wincing at the pull of his stitches but quickly forgetting the sudden pain when Red eagerly followed him like a mindless drone begging to be filled, leaning down and immediately wrapping his lips around his husband's bromine soaked length and moaning around him greedily as he attempted to openly finger himself for the first time. It was hard to keep up both at the same time, Red accidentally grazing his broken smile over Purple more than once as he reached back to try and dig deep enough to create the same powerful, burningly electric sensation, consistently reminded to focus when his partner would snatch at his cheeks and force his willing mouth back open as he gagged delectably on his length. Purple frowned when he noticed his lover's free arm grow weak as he squeezed his eyes shut and moaned shamefully around him, the vibration intensifying into a choked cry when he nearly brought himself to the sweet release of a powerful orgasm, immediately grabbing at his bad shoulder and pushing him lightly back to watch with longing captivation.

"Get yourself off, Red." He ordered firmly, tugging his trembling lover over his hips to straddle him as he flagrantly indulged in the sickly sweetness of such a powerful warrior reduced to tasty rubble above him. "I wanna watch you cum on your fingers before I let you ride me."

"Please," Red half begged between pants, struggling to stay upright, "c-can you touch me? Fuck, please, I need you to touch me, Pur."

Purple tutted his tongue behind his teeth and slowly shook his head with a grin as he pretended to consider his husband's reprehensible moans. "Mm…nah. I wanna see if you can do it yourself." He hissed, letting his devastatingly mocking palms glide up to knead encouragingly at his partner's splayed thighs. "Tell me what it feels like. What does it feel like to fuck yourself while I watch?"

Red forced himself a bit deeper as the searing touch set him alight and burned him in ways he hadn't felt before, wishing those domineering hands would move up ever so slightly to help him spill over the blinding edge. "W-Weird." He stuttered out feebly, panting against the incredibly confusing feeling of building pressure deep inside his core and instinctually chasing it down. "I-I feel so weird."

Purple practically purred at the sweltering confusion pouring off of his blubbering other half's lips as he pounded himself, memorizing every hasty, fanatical movement of his hands and feeling himself move about to search for the delectable, delirious smell of undeniable pheromones oozing from Red's vibrating antennae as he moaned. "Is it a good weird?" He couldn't look away, feeling his own breathing escalate when his partner bit down on his lip and curled his toes against the tile, knowing he was so unbelievably close and wondering how immensely incredible that tight body would feel bouncing on top of him.

"Y-yeah…!"

"Are you gonna be good and cum for me?"

"…"

"Answer me, Red. If you want me inside you, you better speak up."

"Yes!"

"Yes what?"

"Y-Yes I'm gonna cum for you! I-I'm gonna cum for you!"

Red nearly fell forward as a sudden lightning bolt of bewildering, blinding pleasure cascaded over his body, drawing a brazen, unashamed scream from his lips as he rode the harrowing high of his first mind-blowing internal climax, astounded by the sheer difference in intensity when Purple pulled him down by the waist to experience him groan wildly against his mouth. He came in broad wet stripes across his partner's chest, immediately moving his hands away to stabilize himself as he tried to regain composure.

Purple sighed against his spent lover, running soothing palms up his back when he grinned out of adrenaline-fueled bewilderment against his lips and tried to take a shallow breath, floored by the bizarre ripples of residual stimulation bubbling up inside him. He reached down and ran his touch over his slit, blinking at the incredible, dripping wetness he was met with from the mind-blowing, first orgasm Red had sexily brought himself to.

"Irk, Red, what'd you do, open up the floodgates?" He joked puerilely, chuckling when his husband grumbled and tried to shy away from the overly sensitive contact between his legs.

"T-That's disgusting." He breathed in hot response, trying to collect his thoughts and only finding himself growing deeply flushed again when he felt something firm squirming and curling aimlessly against his thigh. "U-Um…you haven't…uh…" He mumbled against Purple's cheek, reaching back to feel for his length and bringing his tip to his still overly sensitive entrance with an airy moan.

Purple eyed him suspiciously, loving every minute of his rare, glowing obedience when he waited for permission to keep going and satisfy himself beyond his wildest imagination. "You think you want that?" He laughed and held back a breathy moan when Red trailed his firm tip along the length of his sticky slit with an exhausted nod. "You gotta ask for it."

Red wavered, annoyed at the infuriating amount of dialogue he was forced to share against his better judgement, knowing if anyone from his past ever found out about the sheer unfocused, glossy purrs spilling from his mouth, he would forever be a social pariah. But what bothered him more in the moment was that he didn't care in the slightest.

He wanted to feel Purple stretching him, wanted to feel him deeper than anyone had ever been, wanted him to force him to his second bruising, deep climax.

"C-Can I?"

"That's not specific enough, baby. You're a powerful Irken. Use your vocabulary and let me hear your voice."

"Fuck you." Red grumbled with genuine anger at the appalling baby speak thrust back in his face, embarrassing him to his core but eliciting something mouthwateringly delectable as the sweet degradation put his mind back in the game. He couldn't meet his partner's gaze as he repeated the motion against his body, envisioning everything he could possibly do to him right here, right now if only he could find his voice.

Purple knew he was struggling, wanting nothing more than to sink into that tight, velvety heat and finally connect himself to Red like he had secretly hoped for a while, but he held back and stayed patient. "Come on, Red. I can get up and walk away. I can get up and get myself off without you and leave you frustrated for the rest of the night. Don't you wanna get out some of that awful frustration before we go and talk with the aristocracy?" He mused coyly, fixated on the subtle arch of his husband's back as he spoke. "Don't you wanna know what it feels like to lose control?"

"Please, Purple…w-will you fuck me?" Red finally gave up, grinding impatiently against his mate and relinquishing his last bit of carefully guarded dignity over to the gentle claws scraping delicately over his skin. "I-I want you inside me."

"Do it then."

Red pushed himself back up with great effort, shaking where he hovered as he stared down at his partner with an ethereal, blissfully distant look hidden behind the faraway crimson of his sizzling eye color. He hesitated, willing himself on against his jittery fears before ever-so-slowly lowering himself down and squeezing his eyes shut as he focused. Purple ran his hands up over his husband's taut stomach, tracing his myriad of scars as he held his breath to the foreign, exotic, incredibly gorgeous feeling of the beginning fringes of his lover moving inside of him and lapping at places that had never been taken so fully. He forced himself on, holding back a string of broken cries as he tried to relax and swallow every inch of his partner, eyes flying open to stare down at where he was slowly disappearing into his eager, tight heat. It was nearly unbearable, the pain quickly subsiding the longer Red waited, incredibly happy that his bubbly, overly-snarky partner was patient enough to let him move at his own crawling pace and savor the mind-numbing feeling of having someone spreading him open as he squeezed down. Finally, after what felt like cycles, Red felt his hips gingerly meet his mate's as his jaw went slack and he flitted in and out of the glorious magnificence of the delightfully gooey reality he had somehow wormed his way into, forgetting to breathe against the sensation of Purple so far into his stomach as he curled and writhed delectably against all the right places.

How had he ever thought this wouldn't be amazing?

Purple's hands moved down to rest encouragingly on his lover's hips as he shakily lifted himself a few tentative inches with a droning whine before carefully lowering himself back down with a low exhale. He repeated the brazen motion, Purple helping him to move with a bit more confidence on the downstroke, rolling up to meet him and earning a gorgeous, loud cry when he reached a bit deeper than Red had been prepared for. Ecstasy, pure, unabridged ecstasy. He went into a trance, grinding down against his husband's hips to prolong the exotically scrumptious stimulation vaulting and splaying him widely open as he found a steady rhythm; the slow, careful, hesitant strokes had become short and sweet, a cosmic, ethereal phantom of a bleary smile stamped brazenly across Red's sweat soaked features as he moaned in time with their quickening tempo. He folded forward across Purple's chest to let his unashamed voice ring out into his neck as he reached up to toy with his delicate antennae on impulse, relinquishing complete control of his body to his partner as he took him by the hips and forced him to take every last inch of his squirming length.

Purple tried not to lose himself completely at the overpowering feeling of taking his formidable, dictating partner's precious virginity in this way, wanting to bring him to a second, blistering climax before he let himself have the satisfaction of sweet relief. He picked up the pace, pushing Red back up to a sit and controlling him like a doll, remembering something interesting he had almost forgotten from their illustrious, beautiful first time together. He flew up and snatched him by the throat, earning a wide-eyed, startled cry that immediately broke to a groan of wholly satisfied, incredible pleasure when he gently squeezed.

"Come on, Red, fuck yourself." He demanded, letting his other hand trail up his partner's chest as he bounced to land against his jugular and force the priceless air from his heaving lungs. His partner loved every second of the scrumptious torment, eating up the precious, vacancy of the torture blinding him into submission as he rode his mate closer and closer to his second intense release.

He could feel it, a deep, overwhelmingly fixed swell threatening to spill deep inside his core as Purple stretched him and carefully choked the life from his dulling eyes. Red's hands flew up to snatch at his mate's, feeling him pull back just enough for him to draw a shuddering breath before he forced him back down against his hips and took complete control of the pace, using Red's body like a toy to fulfill his cruel, delicious desires. So close…so close….so close! He was at the mercy of a now hardened warrior, a virtual dominatrix pounding away whatever was left of his almost non-existent innocence, eating him alive and savoring him in his mouth like expensive chocolate. He was shorter in this moment and Purple was taller, he was subservient, and his mate was his master. Red gripped shakily at Purple's wrist and urged him to squeeze harder, half-gagging fanatical praise when he immediately complied and continued his relentless torrent of slick, hard thrusts deep inside his abused insides.

Now.

Red froze, eyes shooting wide and rolling back when Purple forced him down a final time, feeling his coveted, prized high rip through him like a hot poker and cause every muscle in his used body to go completely slack, his partner holding him up by his throat as he clamped down around him and spasmed, trying to cry out his scorching bliss but finding his voice completely stolen by the intense pressure still clamped around his throat. Purple sighed into Red's exhausted body when he finally let him go and released inside him, his own blissfully gorgeous climax extended by the incredible beauty of the tightness holding him in place.

Silence. Venerability. Sweat.

Purple felt himself sluggishly pull back as Red sighed a final time into his neck, wanting nothing more than to curl up and pass out then and there on the floor of the cleansing room, growing dizzily irritated when Purple planted a few amorous open mouthed kisses to his shoulder before attempting to tug them both up. Red rolled over and stared up at him from below with a frown and a vacant, faraway blink of blank, satisfied ecstasy. After a few moments of nudging him teasingly in the ribs with his chilling toes, Purple finally managed some semblance of an answer when his completely spent mate pushed himself up to a sit and ran his hands over his overstimulated antennae to try and recollect his sluggishly bouncing thoughts.

"Come on, honey, let's go to bed." Purple extended a hand down to try and hoist him up, finding his own spotty strength failing him when Red threatened to drag him down again. "I take it you like being fucked." He mocked when he was finally able to hoist him from the ground and walk him to the door.

"I-I don't think…I-I've ever felt anything like that before." Red struggled to speak against the ring of deep violet bruises forming around his neck, trudging along in his husband's arms as they halfway stumbled through the doorway and into the dim light of the guest bedroom. "Oh, gross, I can feel you leaking out of me." He mumbled, coming to when Purple slogged to the bed and flopped down to coat the sheets in bromine.

"Yeah, that happens." He chuckled lovingly, greedily throwing his arms in the air and whining pathetically for Red to bask in the afterglow of their powerful, unexpected lovemaking they both desperately needed in the pit of hell they had come to live in. "Come here I wanna snuggle you!"

Red rolled his eyes and lowered himself down, sticking his tongue out in disgust as he tried to wipe away the last traces of Purple oozing from within him on their blankets. "Don't say that."

"What? Snuggle?"

"Yeah, it's stupid. _Really_ stupid."

Purple laughed when Red finally lounged back, wincing at the stinging twinge in his back from overexertion but quickly forgetting his qualms when his husband pulled him in to plant a soft, affectionate kiss to the back of his neck.

"You wouldn't have married me if you didn't like my stupid." Purple pointed out against his skin, smiling when Red flicked his antennae back to graze lightly over his and halfway lull him to sleep. "You know…we can do this."

Red blinked, taking hold of the gentle hands that had come to rest on his chest as they entwined their legs together for warmth through the night of restful peace they both needed so desperately to have. "Do what?"

Another soft kiss to the nape of his neck had him sighing in relief with a faint, otherworld smile as that voice he had come to cherish over the most beautiful, haunting instruments of the known universe rang out and hammered in the nail of determination to keep going.

"We can fix our planet."

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Woo! I made the update! There may be slight English mistakes because this chapter is not looked over by a beta. So I hope you enjoyed and I will see you all again, my lovelies, for our next update on Wednesday, November 27, 2019 at 10:00 pm CDT (UTC -5)! Love you!


	30. You Are Hereby Exiled

Y'all thought there would be peace? In charlokitty's territory?! NONSENCE! I gave you guys a few chapters to breathe but we're getting back into the terror. Hold on to your hats because we're jumping back into some more…_violence_. Of course, muhaha. Thank you for all coming back every chapter and supporting us like you have and I really appreciate all of you amazing lovelies out there! Even if you don't leave a review, I can see who returns through my stats so thank you, thank you! Isn't it crazy we're at 30 chapters now?! I had originally intended to end this fic at chapter 9 and just be done with it, but here we are!

I also promise this fic will have a nice, peaceful ending, we're just not as close to it as I originally thought we were. Have fun, angels!

I also wanted to give a shoutout to my friend **vairasen** on Instagram for their incredible niceness and dedication to this fic! **Vairasen** if you read this, you're fantastic and your support has meant the world to me, lovely angel! Stay awesome!

_**GLORIOUS FANART ALERT!**_ MY DUDES MY DUDES WE HAVE MORE AMAZING FANART FROM ONE OF MY NEW FRIENDS ON MY INSTAGRAM! Our wonderful devoted reader **thefellbeast** on Instagram has drawn the most bangin' depiction of Pem, and I'M IN TOTAL LOVE RIGHT NOW JESUS. GUYS. IF YOU DON'T DO ANYTHING ELSE TODAY, AT LEAST GO FOLLOW KNOCK ON INSTAGRAM BECAUSE THEY ARE INCREDIBLE AND THEIR COMPREHENSION OF ANATOMY IS SUPERB. I linked their work below, but they can also be found at **thefellbeast**! Thank you lovely for your dedication to this work, for being so sweet, and for your glorious art! Love you, angel!

p/B5W7sMxJ0qh/ (post found on Instagram)

**Chapter rated M for graphic depictions of violence/blood/gore, major character death, brief heavy language, allusions to trauma/mental disorder, brief mention of rape/sexual assault, brief mention of homophobia/use of homophobic slurs, brief suggestive themes, and general adult content. This be a doozy fam!**

* * *

Irk was beautiful. The magenta sunrise cresting over the horizon illuminated the rolling hills of virgin Naphrus forest, fanning out in languid sweeps to kiss the swaying treetops with summer warmth lapping over sensitive antennae. Purple missed it. He missed it every day for months while training with Red on Inquisitoria and would often come here in his mind when the going got too rough for his mind to handle, pacifying his qualms and giving him hope that he and Red could live here one day together. The sounds of creatures calling in the distance and singing lonely songs, the smell of vibrant, sickly sweet flowers curling up to meet the light, the feeling of tall, featherlight grass brushing his ankles; all of it pushed away the fear…the dastardly monsters raging and hinting at his very demise he never knew was coming.

He had awoken early around four in the morning, staring up at the yawning skylight he hoped would greet him every day when the bar became his permanent home and fighting off the horrible cold sweat of disgusting nightmares he wished would eventually go away but still echoed menacingly through his traumatized mind. Red had been the same, though a bit tamer in his violent uptake, squirming in his sleep and holding his breath until he would gasp for air unconsciously behind his eyelids, Purple's soft palms trailing up over his cheeks to try and smooth away the agony digging into his dreams and unraveling the prospect of a serene night's rest. He held him close for nearly half an hour as he hummed lovingly, running his long fingers comfortingly over his partner's vibrating antennae when phantom noise and blood-curdling screams undoubtedly beleaguered his stressed senses and took him back to the height of the hundreds of brutal battles he had been forced to slog through, feeling him relax a bit in his protective hold when he gingerly wiped pooling beads of hot sweat from his forehead and whispered reassuring, sweet nothings against his paling cheek. He was developing a pretty nasty case of sleep apnea, choking lightly on every other inhale before snoring himself back to an even breathing cycle upon his partner's quietening touch melting him back to existence as he slumbered through the torture. Purple made a mental to bring it up over breakfast, caressing down his lover's shoulders and feeling every muscle shifting evenly beneath his fingertips before stopping at Red's powerful chest to feel for his steadily slowing, throbbing pulse. That sound…that rhythmic, enticing, boundless chorus was completion at its finest, shocking Purple awake and sedating the worst of his evil, demented visions of the nauseating, soft face of his greatest nemesis, Pem.

Pem and his taut arms around Lard Nar's delicate throat.

Pem and his coldblooded plasma pistol trained on Red's PAK legs.

Pem and his feral, infantile chuckling before he blew a hole in Purple's side.

Always with Pem.

Always.

No longer a Vortian engineer gone rogue from the torment of excruciating loss, no longer a depressed, lonely terrorist with a fanatical need to dominate and rain justice down on those who wronged him, but a philosophy of juicy violence and unnecessary manslaughter ingrained in the already faulty Irken political system. No amount of long sleep, devoted intimacy and tender, late night sex, stinging alcohol, or prescription pain pills could drown him out or loosen his now fictitious but all-too-real hold on Purple and his new family. He had tormented Lard Nar so deeply that he had knocked a few screws loose in his mind and made him question the very foundations of who he was and what he believed. He had thrashed and maltreated Red and had betrayed him on trial, hanging him out to dry like a piece of forgotten cloth to turn the Empire he once loved so dearly against him. He had shot Purple and forced him to stand naked before millions for hours, playing on the vicious insecurities bubbling up in his psyche and drawing them out to lap at them like a sickening, sadistic stew. He had consented to the takeover of tiny, venerable Kez and her sweet smile, the brutalization of bawdy Teem and her eventual rape, the merciless shoot down of vulgar Utna over the city and the widowing of her distraught husband on Inquisitoria, and had almost paved the way for a new universal conquest from the Control Brains unlike any that had ever been experienced in Irken history. Pem took everything everyone had ever loved and folded it into a sadistic, strangely beautiful piece of aggressive origami art to admire because he had never truly had his once pure love returned, taking it from others and crushing it in his clawed hands like a mortar of self-loathing and pity. Purple desperately begged and pleaded with his own mind for this whole deadly, perilous fiasco to finally be over and done with, to toss it out into the aether and watch it drift away peacefully like steam, but it would never be over as long as any one of them remained with blood in their body and fight in their veins. Pem's philosophy would always reign supreme over Irk unless he and Red could convince the Veloria Aristocracy to enact their shaky plan to overhaul the entire damaged, disrespectful court system and ancient, primordial hierarchy for the collective good.

They had to defeat their demons once and for all and move on.

Pem was the grisly phantom, the boogeyman lurking under the bunks of smeets, the mental disarray festering in them all and pitting them against everything they had ever loved. Purple felt terrible for going off the deep end the previous day, attacking Sledhob out of sheer malice because he _wanted_ to, not because he _needed_ to, and finding a strange sense of control in the pain and hostility he wrought over someone so powerful. In the moment, he had needed the control again in the shaky, precarious foundations he had been forced to walk, almost as if he had jumped from the top of a building without a bungee cord to snap him back. Pem had gotten under his skin and was asphyxiating his spooch, clenching at the mangled jumble of organs writhing within the fatigued bodies of them all and Purple knew deep down in some way or another that it was horrendously backwards and unbelievably wrong. The sheer frustration of the man's continued influence over their universe was astoundingly complex, those vivid olive eyes and bristly, sharp-toothed smile had become the glittering nebulas, that nasally cackle of a laugh had become the searing light of the sun, and those six long, calculating claws had become the very soil they all walked on. Pem was here and he was here to stay.

Pem would always be here to stay.

Purple had begun to wonder if his partner saw him too as his thumbs danced ever so lightly over the exquisite warmth of his cheeks to trail down to his chapped lips, tracing them like it was the first time he had ever seen them this close. Gorgeous, radiant, intricate. Red didn't like it when Purple called him things like that in the open or snuck the elegant, impeccable words into casual conversation; they had always backfired into a fit of embarrassed chuckles or blatant, halfhearted annoyance followed by a mini-lecture on how Red was manly and handsome, not beautiful and svelte. Of course the former was also true, but what he could never seem to fathom is that the two could peaceably coexist hand in hand and tastefully dance with one another. Red was stoic and formidable, but also secretly intelligent and sensitive underneath all that proverbial iron and explosive temper. He was brutal and exacting in his icy ways, but also profoundly protective and infinitely loving. He could safeguard Purple in the best of manners with his calculating militaristic dedication and incredible skills on the harsh battlefield, wading through millions if he had to just to make sure Purple's smile remained unharmed and his body was unscathed by the ruthlessness of enemy hands. He would take blows, bruises, plasma shots, and knife wounds to keep his beloved out of the clutches of harm, giving up his limbs and life in an instant should the need arise and painting a startlingly formidable persona not even Irk's finest Elite officers would dare touch with a ten foot pole.

He was powerful. He was beautiful. He was home.

Even after the incredible, cherished intimacy they had both desperately needed, the sound of Red's gently panting voice against Purple's bromine slicked skin, the feeling of bodies perfectly aligned and moving in tandem, he still couldn't relax and just be content in his husband's loving, tender hold. The anxiety for what was to come at noon during their terrifying proposal to fix the planet coupled with the flashbacks of every unfortunate soul and delicate life obliterated in the war and gurgling in their own sticky blood forced Purple up despite his better judgement in a cloud of nauseatingly terrible exhaustion that would never fade. He had gingerly slipped free from their stale sheets, reaching over to cover Red's shivering body with a soft, lingering kiss between his antennae before padding off through the guest room and out into Teem and Kez's main living area. Inquisitorian guards had sprawled every which way about the floor and walkways, a mess of limbs and thick, untamed snores ripping at the peace as Lard Nar twitched and jerked aimlessly atop the couch, spasming as he dreamed and kicking aside fluffy pillows until he had all but thrown himself to the cold ground.

Purple had slipped noiselessly into Teem and Kez's personal room, overcome by the still fleeting scent of overbearing floral perfume and the invasively obnoxious shades of rosy pink slathered over the walls and splayed across the furry comforter, treading carefully with light steps as Sledhob slumbered on his back surrounded by incredible amounts of plush pillows to support his aching spine. He was eager to find something other than Inquisitorian garb to don, gingerly hunting around until he came across a laundry basket carefully tucked away in the corner, digging through the contents and smiling softly to himself when his fingers grazed an oversized grey flannel he was sure Teem only wore as a casual dress, slinging it up over his bare shoulder with a pair of light leggings he was almost positive weren't going to fit but was going to try regardless. He cringed as Sledhob rolled over in his sleep with a faint mumble of a sigh, reaching up and readjusting the black sleep mask over his gargantuan eye before huffing unconsciously as Purple hurriedly worked on his friend's clothes and admired himself in the mirror. The worn-out flannel fit like a glove, accommodating his massive height perfectly but Teem's stretchy leggings only came to his knee; irritating, but still more comfortable than running around in thin, static clingy silk and distastefully blinding shades of cerulean. He was beginning to feel like himself again, like a relaxed, complete Irken rather than a being bouncing between Empires and lilting wherever the wind carried him. He dug back into the hamper, plucking free Kez's bright pink, loose overshirt and mauve leggings for Lard Nar, folding them delicately to the side before hunting for something suitable for his weary other half. He finally settled on a plain white work shirt Teem used for painting and a pair of jet black stretchy leggings he carefully pleated before scooping everything up and wandering back out into the main living quarters. He placed Lard Nar's set down by his feet before setting Red's on the kitchen table, stepping around the incredible mess of sticky juice no one had bothered to clean up throughout their short stay and hunting for something delicious and warm to drink through the looted carnage.

After a bit of rummaging and snooping behind torn bags of flour and stale adult vitamins, Purple settled on a pot of instant mint tea for himself and was delighted to find a portable mug warmer his friends typically kept on their coffee table as they did tedious taxes and other secretive paperwork for the IRM, pulling it free from its drawer with a thick ceramic mug before flicking on the plasma stove and devotedly brewing his husband a quick pan of black Vortian coffee he knew Red would need to perk up when he finally blinked himself awake. He couldn't find any sugar, balancing the piping hot mug in his fingers as he stepped over snoozing guards and piles of clinking, scaly armor to push open the creaking door to the guest room with his foot and smiling softly to himself when he noticed his tranquil partner was thankfully still asleep. After the previous night, Red had been completely worn out, the two engaging in hushed pillow talk and giggling over tiny things that didn't make much sense in the afterglow of sweat-sticky passion and affectionate kisses, but they thought were adorable regardless. The word husband was still incredible, Purple leaving behind Red's mug and the warmer on the end table before brushing another slow, haunting kiss to his still lips; he was never able to get enough of what that meant now, repeating it over and over in his mind as he took his own warming drink out through the main room to trudge through the bar and into the gorgeous, still paling light of the infinitely welcoming Irken morning.

Husband. He was a husband.

He had been chosen as a life mate. He had been burned to show his substantial worth. He had been taken fully by a tall crimson knight and taken him fully in return as a saccharine, gorgeous prince. The soft, wafting breeze carried the earthy smell of damp foliage and honied flower petals up against Purple's antennae as he sipped soothingly at his tea, making his way through the cool gloom of dawn to the dilapidated back shed that Teem had showed him so long ago when they were toiling together to retrofit their massive, rusted out, now extinct, Viral Tank. Red was always in his thoughts and his familiar scent was always lingering on his clothes, even through the strange, floral smell of tinged citrus drifting up from Teem's shirt. That smell was home…this place was home.

Purple finished off his makeshift breakfast, tugging open the rusted out handle of the metal shed and coughing at the rancid smell of dead insects long since trapped behind the protective steel before making his way inside and feeling around for a few things he would need to begin his long, tentative work on Sledhob's flagship. He brushed aside dust and tiny carcasses, plucking several wrenches, a heavy welding iron, and a pair of goggles suspended by a hook from the ceiling and slinging everything precariously under his arm as he took his leave, freezing when he noticed something leather and mouthwatering in the corner of his vision, spinning around for a better look and immediately feeling his knees weaken at the glorious, lavish sight welcoming him like a gift. It was a modern, sleek, generously woven mechanic's belt coated in a disgusting layer of dust and begging to be filled with heavy iron tools and hot plasma torches sizzling from overuse. He hadn't noticed it the last time he had been here, preoccupied with the time crunch he needed to race against to make it to Red's trial on Judgementia and neglecting the gorgeous beauty all together; it was much nicer than the one he had left on Inquisitoria with what remained of his half-destroyed armor and the alien craftsmanship was flawless. Purple set his mug aside, forgetting it completely as he reached out and brushed the pads of his fascinated fingers over the deep black, expensive Plookesian suede beckoning him on like a siren before tugging it down with his free hand and all but dropping his tools to the floor as he slung it with a wild grin over his hips and expertly fastened the silver buckle in the front. This must have belonged to someone of status in Naphrus 8, someone with opulent taste and a knack for the finer things in life. Surely, with the rural town now completely deserted and desolate, whoever it was wouldn't miss this, right?

After a bit of self-convincing, Purple shoved all his new tools in his prized, substantially soft belt before taking back off for the short walk it would take to reach the town square, stopping along the way to examine the broken out, wholly shattered window of a corner store and plucking an unopened bag of gooey, gelatinous candy from the rubble. Sledhob's ship was in better condition than he had originally thought, forcing the front hull open to examine the gargantuan hum of the plasma core shrouded in powerful dark matter technology. Everything was intact and surprisingly clean, the Prime Minister making sure to regularly flush the core of the buildup of an overabundance of charged particles to prevent unnecessary static to the mainframe, much to Purple's delight, knowing it would make it exponentially easier to bring the ship back online in record time. The thrusters and cooling units had been perforated and practically torn away from the outside of the body, hanging limply in a heap of destroyed wires and remarkably undamaged tanks dribbling tiny streams of freezing hydrogen to the sodden ground. A few Inquisitorian engineers had met him outside when he thrust his ungloved hands into the jumble of ominously sparking wires and unhinged connection ports, hurrying back inside to retrieve a transmitter upon request when Purple rolled his sleeves and flipped his grimy goggles down over his scrutinizing gaze and began his tedious, well-practiced work. His assistants laughed and snickered together when he asked them to try and maneuver their way into the now irreparably damaged Irken intranet for loud music to aid his steadfast concentration with no success, resorting unenthusiastically to an Inquisitorian database millions of miles away and rolling his eyes to the pathetically weak swells and tame drums of what the domesticated planet seemed to think rock was. Amateurs. It would have to do.

He worked diligently until first light, hoisting panels and smearing grease over his once clean face to stain him a deep black he had come to crave like a delicious drug. Petroleum slicked skin, the smell of burning electricity, the sound of angry counter-culture music and the scrumptious feeling of plush grass underneath his bare toes…this was paradise. This was pure, unabridged bliss from Purple's wildest fantasies and deepest, aching desires tucked away behind the permanent effects of trauma and mutilation. Here, laying on his back with a oil coated wrench clenched firmly in his sharp teeth and globs of sticky, frigid coolant dripping to his soiled elbows as he labored enthusiastically to smoothly reweld the tank in it's proper place, this was everything he had dreamed his life could return to. His side still hadn't healed completely, a dull ache deep in his ravaged muscle from where the skin had finally closed and heavily scarred, slowing him down more than he would have liked and forcing him to shimmy back into the light for yet another break.

"Good morning."

A tiny, cautious voice spoke up through the now warm, pastel dawn cresting stunningly over the hills, meeting Purple's yellow goggled gaze as he pulled himself free from the glossy underbelly of the potent ship and struggled to maneuver himself to a sit with a sudden smile when he realized who it was. Lard Nar reached out and helped him up, stooping to recline against the now heating metal glistening magnificently in the sunlight and showing off the deep, sweltering hues of the bright blue, overly expensive paint Sledhob had commissioned for his vessel.

Purple wiped his sticky, soiled hands on the front of Teem's shirt before reaching up and tugging his goggles down away from his face, feeling his smile turn to a wide grin when Lard Nar snickered lightly and pointed out the deep black hue of cosmic dust and soot ringing his eyes like poorly applied eyeliner.

His friend reached out for the open bag of gummy candy thrown haphazardly against the moist ground, sinking deeper into the ridiculous rosy pink of Kez's shirt and popping a few in his mouth. "Thank you for the clothes." He mumbled in between chews, spitting to the side when the sickly sweetness and viscous taste didn't agree with his senses. "I was getting tired of wearing a loose hospital gown."

"Pink looks good on you." Purple responded casually, stealing the bag back and hunting for his favorite color amidst the disgusting lemon flavor he had left intentionally in the bottom before stretching out for the transmitter and pausing the blaring music he had been shamelessly indulging in. "Did you sleep alright on the couch? I would have offered for you to come stay with Red and I but he kicks in his sleep."

Lard Nar resorted to popping open a tiny bag he routinely carried with him, rolling up the ends of his sister's mauve leggings and bringing a cheap, carefully guarded Vortian cigarette he had been saving to his lips and hunting for a lighter. "Well…no, I haven't been able to sleep since we got back from the war." He admitted, blinking when Purple graciously offered up the lit end of a plasma torch instead. He closed his eyes and filled his lungs with the first of many horrible, tar-inducing smokes of the day, savoring the bitter flavor. "I don't want to be a downer this early in the morning, but I keep thinking about…_him_. I used to hear his voice speaking to me, and I thought I would be happy when he finally disappeared, but I'm just confused now."

Purple drew his antennae back to the now incredibly familiar stink of ash and smoldering leaves curling from his friend's experienced lungs, squirming slightly where he sat and remembering no one had truly talked about what had happened since Pem took his own life in the Spike of Judgement. They had all sat in an inebriated fog in the middle of the hospital, trying to forget and unfortunately dissociating from the appalling horrors of war they had all regrettably been wholly consumed by.

"Um…me too." He finally responded, slipping a few gluey candies over his tongue and welcoming them as a distraction to the obvious depression lacing his brother's dull yellow eyes behind his prescription lenses. "Do you want to talk about him? I know you sorta talked to Sledhob but we all know he dominates the conversation."

Lard Nar dipped his fingers back into his bag, pulling out two sheets of paper and passing them over with a forlorn sigh; one was a stained, disgustingly mangled photograph of Pem in his lab coat with a tiny child clutched in his ecstatic arms, and the other was a bizarre crayon portrait of Lard Nar with a reassuring statement he had gone back to dig out of the wrecked floorboard of Pem's Ripper. It was tarnished blue with their enemy's bright blood from when he had lost his hand, smeared disgustingly over the artistic interpretation of Lard Nar's own waxy face.

"He drew that for me." Lard Nar began, taking the sheet back and looking it over with a distant expression, attempting to move past the soul-crushing fear of losing something so dastardly. "He vied after me all that time and I never even knew he existed until it was too late for him. If I had been more observant when we were in prison together, maybe he would have turned out differently and wouldn't have done everything he did. Maybe we wouldn't be here."

Purple returned his attention to the photograph, unsettled by the vision of domestic perfection Pem had once indulged in and disturbed by the look of genuine, uncorrupted contentment radiating off of the image. "That's not your fault. Miyuki created him, not you."

Lard Nar shook his head and meticulously folded up the drawing he somehow couldn't seem to toss, cringing at the sensation of crusty blood coming off in his hands and thoroughly disgusted with himself for finding relief at being so close to Pem's horrendous DNA. "But I also didn't stop him, either. I just pushed him away every time he talked to us and let him spiral deeper and deeper into a madness that I could have fixed." He pointed down to the image in his friend's hands before taking another shaky puff on his cigarette. "That's who he was. He was a father, an engineer, a Vortian, and an innocent man who had everything taken from him. That's who I should have helped him get back to instead of abandoning him like a lost cause when he tried to reach out to me."

"Lard Nar, he murdered your brother and brought Urb Yen and I together to fight. He shot me and tried to blow us up." Purple reminded delicately, relinquishing the outdated photograph to his brother's grabby hands and watching in worried suspense as he stared down at the image for a long while as if he wanted to say something but didn't know how to come out and begin. "What did you…eh…did you and him have some sort of thing going on? I know he liked you, but did you, I dunno, like him back?"

Lard Nar ran his free hand up to caress at the massive emerald broach stamped over his shoulder before pressing the snapshot to his chest and drawing his knees in to curl into himself as he smoked his body into oblivion and refused to answer clearly.

"How did you know you liked men?" Lard Nar blurted out, dodging the question with a surprising one of his own. "Sexuality didn't matter on Vort as long as you were happy and safe with whoever you chose, and no one really looked at gender when they chose a partner. It just sort of happens, but I've never been interested in a male, so I was curious about what that feels like."

Purple was taken aback by the sudden confidence radiating from his friend's tongue, a bit alarmed at the thought of Lard Nar having heard him and Red in the act the previous night. He had been enthralled in the moment when his head was swimming with pheromones and oodles of serotonin but now he was growing to be incredibly embarrassed by the wildly unashamed noises he had brought his stoic partner to make.

"I think it's different for everyone." He began apprehensively, working through the feeling he had tried to explain before but couldn't really pin down. "I started noticing that I was different back in the Academy when I had to bunk with a bunch of other guys, and I would catch myself accidentally staring or saying things that I wasn't supposed to about the way they looked. I thought it was a PAK malfunction for a while, but I noticed I was drawn to the natural smell of Irken men which is a biological thing. It's different than women…deeper and rounder I guess."

Smell. Pem had smelled nice against the dash of his Ripper. "Ah. Interesting." Lard Nar mumbled, urging Purple to continue.

"I wouldn't say that. My society used to kill my kind. If anyone I knew back then truly found out I was gay, they could have turned me in to my superiors and had me reencoded or deleted." Purple gave a nervous chuckle at the hundreds of times he had almost been found out. "I think my boss at the time knew, but he just used that to force me to work harder."

"What about Red? When did you first find out you felt things for him?"

Purple allowed himself a tiny smile at the memories flooding up through his PAK, showing off the dastardly menace that his now husband used to be when they first met over a hundred cycles ago. "Geez, I can remember how it started. That's kinda sad, isn't it? He was transferred to the Massive under Spork when I worked in the docks as a mechanic and he pointed out my height and how I should enlist in the Elite. Man, he was such an asshole back then, but there was something about the way he looked at me in that stupid uniform that made me a little crazy. I don't know if it was his eye color or his status that got me, but something in his eyes lit that spark. He still looks at me the same way. And again with the smell…I don't really know how to describe it but he's always worn this weird spicy cologne and there was something about it that made me want to know him on a deeper level. He didn't know he was like my kind back then, so we fought all the time until we became Tallest together and I couldn't come clean about the way I felt until we ended up here in Naphrus a cycle ago."

"So…you loved and hated him at the same time?"

"Oh. Yeah, I guess I did."

"Hm…Love and hate are both strong emotions. Do you think they can be mistaken for one another?"

Purple stared out over the magenta treetops, not quite grasping the deeper point of Lard Nar's elusive statement. "Maybe. I've never really thought about it like that, but if I think about it now, I hated Red more than anyone else I knew back then and wanted to be with him more than anyone else at the same time. So, sure. I think they can go hand in hand. Why?"

Lard Nar shied away. "I don't know. I hate Pem. I…um…I hate him so much."

Purple felt unbelievably uncomfortable with the idea of his awkward partner in crime somehow falling in love with the deceased terrorist that had all caused them so much grief. There was nothing mildly appealing about Pem in the slightest; he had been incredibly obnoxious, gutturally cruel, all wrapped up in a blanket of false innocence and continuous lies thrown out to appease the masses. Still, here Lard Nar was, threatening to break down over the mere thought of Pem never returning from his nauseating suicide and splattering on the ground as he unfortunately observed the bloody slaughter from above. Purple didn't understand, toying awkwardly with a few tools held securely in his belt and continuously stuffing his mouth full of candy so he wouldn't have to respond until he came up with an adequate enough answer to quench the turmoil lingering in Lard Nar's fractured mind. He had lost almost everyone he loved throughout the entirety of his despondent life; Prisoner 432, Urb Yen, his parents back on Vort during the massacre, his entire crew when they crash landed on Conventia, his casual girlfriend Flich, and most of his growing friends in the IRM. He was met with a ferocious, continuous string of bloodshed and supposed failure stinging him repeatedly like a sadistically persistent wasp, warping and ruthlessly distorting his once firm perception of Pem into something completely different at the very notion that he had somehow failed again. Purple was coming to realize his friend's insane obsession with his own malfunctions, blowing them out of proportion and never able to let them go no matter how hard he tried or how much time had passed.

Say something. Anything.

"Do you know where they're taking his body? Sledhob mentioned on the ship he was being moved." Purple decided upon, immediately regretting it when he heard his friend sniff.

"They're moving him back to Vort under my request. I-I wanted him to be buried on his home planet instead of rotting away on a former Irken stronghold." Lard Nar half choked, opening up a rant he had been so desperate to tell someone but too afraid to actually admit. "I hated him at first for what he did. He was disgusting and wrong and everything I despised about this universe, but the more I listened to him speak and felt him for who he was, the more I realized he had a chance to change. I saw myself in him because I had almost become that lost in the past before I came to know the support of my crew. We were a family once and we loved each other like brothers and sisters and…Pem never had that." He paused to flick his ash to the ground, face buried in his knees to muffle his distant, forlorn voice. "I have all of you now, but who did he have? I know he was wrong and I feel so unclean for thinking like this but I could see past all the filth at the end to the Vortian underneath and…I-I…I-I _liked_ what I saw."

Purple swallowed, finally finishing off the candy he had used as his safety net and resorting to toying with his oil slicked claws. "Did you love him?" He asked again, trying to remain calm and collected when his distraught brother kept dodging the question he needed to answer in order to finally heal. "Be honest with yourself, Lard Nar. I'm going to be there for you no matter what."

"I don't know."

"I think you do. I think you're just too scared to say it out loud. He didn't do anything to you physically did he that you…eh…that you didn't want?"

"He kissed me and I wasn't prepared for it."

"Did you…_want_ him to?"

"No! W-Well…not at first…I mean…I-I don't know. It doesn't matter anymore anyway. Pem Goor is dead. He's gone and out of our lives and he can't hurt us anymore."

Purple sighed under his breath and slumped back against Sledhob's flagship, crinkling up the plastic bag in his palms and chucking it brazenly to the distance. It was obvious that Lard Nar's mental state would be a consistent work in progress for them all to collectively nurse back to some semblance of health. He had refused to talk with the psychologist on Inquisitoria, physically fighting against her team when he lapsed into a state of violent psychosis, and he had come out of Sledhob's discussion with a bit more peace but added stress now that he was expected to step up and rule an entire kingdom on his lonesome. Purple blinked to himself, nearly forgetting the weighty title his stout, chain-smoking friend had shoved forcibly down his throat against his will. How was he going to handle something of that caliber if all he had ever held dominion over was a rebel faction?

He decided to change the subject, scooting closer to catch his friend when he almost shuddered himself to the ground and letting him rest against his good side for leverage. He reached down between them and ran a tentative finger over the priceless, forest green emerald and gold engraving screaming out an opulence that Lard Nar didn't exude in the slightest with a tiny laugh to try and clear the suffocating mood.

"So, Sledhob made you King of Vort." He tried to chuckle, cringing at the obvious lack of faith in his own voice when Lard Nar wrapped an arm around his for comfort. "That's exciting, right?"

Lard Nar was powering through his cigarette at this point, already halfway done with the singed paper and giving an attempt at a lighthearted scoff of his own. "If I had it my way, I would have refused." He admitted openly, attempting with all his might to forget about the green eyes scorching his soul. "But King Pol Krin designated Prime Minister Sledhob as something called a Stastal'la. It's the Vortian title of a minister given elect privilege to appoint a new king or queen should they die in battle and not have an heir. This hasn't happened for thousands of years, but I am legally obliged to take the stand in sixty…no…fifty-nine days unless the public decides otherwise after two cycles into my rule that I'm not fit for office." He explained dejectedly, flicking his spent cigarette butt into the grass and leaning into the cozy reassurance of his friend's side before drawing his horns back. "I'm not ready for this…I don't even _want_ this! It's not fair and I just wanted to go home and see my planet grow again, not lead it on to a brighter future I don't know how to bring!"

Purple flinched when he felt Lard Nar's tiny body stiffen against him, unfurling his fingers and letting him place his wounded palm against his for some semblance of comfort through his mounting stress. "Look, you've got fifty-nine days to figure this out. Red and I have led an entire Empire together for over a hundred cycles. Maybe we could help you figure out some beginning policies or something?" He suggested with a smile, beaming down through the now bright light of the morning when Lard Nar glanced up in surprise.

"You'd do that for me?" He breathed in stunned disbelief, wrapping his two petite fingers around his tall brother's and letting himself finally relax a bit into the unexpectedly warming touch over his clammy skin. "You would really help?"

Purple laughed and nodded, returning the gesture with a wholehearted honesty. "No, I'm just going to let you go out there and fail." He rolled his eyes teasingly. "Of course I'm going to help you, and I know Red will too if we ask him. He presided over the technical side of the Empire like the military, foreign policy, trade and the like while I looked over social programs, scientific advancements, and Smeeteries."

"I don't think I'll need any help with Smeeteries." Lard Nar drew out the word, enjoying the gradually lightening atmosphere before a sudden thought struck him and numbed him to the core. He reached out with his good hand, taking hold of his private bag once more before pulling out Pem's blood-soaked paper, turning it over in his trembling palm and feeling a strange electric sensation rip up his spine.

Smeeteries clone based on a strand of copied Irken DNA. Irken DNA taken from the blood of a benefactor willing to inject it into a small stem cell sample for growth.

_Clone_.

They clone with DNA taken from _blood_.

"You ok?" Purple chuckled, oblivious to the nauseating, horrendously dubious ideas swarming Lard Nar's fractured mind and drawing him to a nasty, utterly filthy realization he never should have had but couldn't seem to swallow.

"I'm fine." Lard Nar breathed, eyes glued to the crusty clots dotting the beautiful drawing in his hands from a once altruistic, kind-hearted man never given a chance to truly live and forgotten by everyone around him.

Pem.

Pem had said he would always be there.

Pem had said his voice would forever be in his mind.

Pem the father…Pem the engineer…Pem the beautiful Vortian man destroyed by the clutches of a dominating Empire stomping on his life's work and ruining everything he had ever loved.

What if Pem could come back?

What if he could come back and be unsoiled by the horrors of war? Would he remember Lard Nar? Would he remember what he had done?

Lard Nar was a King. He was the King of the entire Vortian Empire and people and would be allowed infinite swathes of beautiful technology at his fingertips. Yes…yes…._yes_! This could work! He had a chance to save Pem for the better and renew his mangled body to something unsoiled by the pain and agony burning his flesh from the once benevolent Miyuki gone rogue! They could have a future! They could have a life! Lard Nar could finally find the love that cherished him so desperately and return it!

Pem.

He loved Pem.

He _loved_ Pem.

He loved him too late and let him go without giving him a chance to heal from the terrors of his broken, destroyed mind, but now…with the technology buried deep in Irk's Smeeteries and the potential foothold Red and Purple could stake with the Veloria Aristocracy, he may be able to get his hands on a few schematics and piece something together to revive the intimately familiar stranger who's sinful smell and roasting eye color had latched onto his consciousness and left a hole behind when he took his own short life. He needed to fill that pit in his heart and finally feel whole for the first time. He needed to be loved by someone who actually loved him deeply back, who would go to war for him, who would die for him. Who _had_ died for him. Lard Nar wouldn't have to be a failure. He wouldn't have to live with the unbearable thought of not being able to fix his nemesis for the better. He would win this time.

He had his purpose back.

_I knew you would want me back, Lard Nar. I knew you would never forget me._

Purple went to prod at Lard Nar's catatonic cheek with an unsuspecting giggle, completely unaware of the bizarre reckonings of maddening reanimation and blasphemous world traipsing floating between them before a loud, cocky voice broke the peace and drew his attention away from the atrocities unfolding in his claws.

"There you are! Don't run off like that, idiot! I thought someone stole you or something!"

Purple let his disturbed friend's hand go after tugging him up to his precarious feet, meeting Red halfway where he scowled with worry and flicked his antennae forward in a hurried greeting as he balanced a tray of poorly made French toast in his fingers.

Purple leaned in to plant a sweet kiss to his partner's frown, thawing his apathetic irritation before snatching at the tray and tugging him along back to the ship. "Good morning to you too, handsome." He teased affectionately, enjoying when Red flustered in his hold. "Did you make this all by yourself?"

Red hesitated before shrugging and following his partner down to the grass where Lard Nar had thrown himself back against the ship and fallen into a deep, philosophical mind state to think. "Yeah, maybe. I thought you would want something decent to eat before we sold our souls to the Aristocracy and gave up to the shorters." He was only half joking, slumping back against the metal and shrinking back in surprise when Purple took up the fork and cut into his makeshift breakfast, attempting to feed the first syrup dripping bite to his confused lover. "What are you doing? I already ate mine."

"I wanna make sure they're edible first." Purple giggled innocently, cupping a soot covered hand under the gooey string of syrupy goodness threatening to land in his lap.

"What do you mean edible? You think I can't cook?" Red bit back, reluctantly moving forward to take the bite as Purple narrowed his eyes and waited, scrutinizing every chew his sarcastic lover took before he finally deemed Red's questionable cooking enough of a success to finally indulge in himself.

He immaturely shoved an entire slice in his wide mouth, mumbling into the decent work Red had somehow managed to pull off with their meager supplies back at the bar, laughing with his mouth full when he caught sight of his expectant husband trying to inconspicuously judge his reaction.

"Quit it already. You did a good job, dork." Purple swallowed and prodded Red lightly in the shoulder with a fat, amorous grin. "This is nice, Red, thanks. When we have our own place, I want you to make me breakfast every morning. Did you find your coffee and your clothes?"

Red's bristling ego began to swell as he purred into the much-needed compliment, smiling smugly to himself before glancing up at the gargantuan coolant tank hovering against the ship above them and shielding some of the vivid light. "Yeah, thanks. I was getting tired of silk. It's kind of weird to wear my ex-girlfriend's clothes though." He pointed out, picking at a tiny hole in the sleeve of Teem's worn out work shirt. "And…the coffee was gross but I needed it."

Purple nodded, popping another butter soaked piece of saccharine sweetness in his mouth. "I know." He sat in silence for a few moments, quickly finishing off his deliciously satisfying meal before hoisting Red up from the ground and spinning him around to admire his luscious handiwork on Sledhob's flagship. He slung an arm around his partner's waist and repositioned his goggles over his forehead with a smile. "What do you think?"

Red whistled in approval, mimicking his husband's movements and running an endorsing palm up his side to gingerly feel for his thick scar as he appreciated the gorgeous, incredible waves of thought and craftsmanship poured into Purple's work. He had always been so good with his hands, unraveling machinery and stitching it back together with flawless welding jobs and expert wiring that could blow away even the highest-ranking professionals on the market.

"It looks fantastic, Pur!" He exclaimed, letting go to get a closer look and running his fingers along the beautifully smooth seam in the thruster housing his partner had managed to solder back together with steady patience. "Irk, why are you so good at everything you do? When we figure out how to pull our planet out of these riots, you'll have no problem finding a job."

Purple hummed graciously, leaning forward to place another grin of a kiss against Red's cheek, only inflating his supersized self-image further as he leaned into the tender touch. He went to return the favor, reaching out to take his husband by the belt and drag him in before nearly jumping out of his skin when Sledhob called out over the cobbling of the square and strode on with his troop of guards trailing behind him. The Prime Minister instructed them to file one by one into the ship, carefully inspecting their uniforms and scaly, navy blue armor for flaws as each and every one of them snickered and shot tiny glances in Red's direction to let him know they had heard everything the previous night. Red sunk down into Purple's hold, itching to hide away from the damming realization that every one of his subordinates had heard him crying out underneath his delicate, beautiful partner as Sledhob chuckled warmly at the sudden realization.

"Good morning, gentlemen!" He beamed respectfully, ushering on the last of his soldiers before running his knowing, wise gaze over the telltale signs of affection and blatant intimacy of hands trailing waists and toying with fingers. "Had a productive night, I would assume?"

"Oh Irk, no." Red grumbled, turning away and tugging out of Purple's grip to return to Lard Nar's company where he hastily folded up his paper and shoved it back in the front pocket of Kez's shirt.

"I mean no malice, Commander!" Sledhob called after him with a wry smile. "I'm happy to see young couples getting along so beautifully in these trying times. A little relief never hurt a man and from the sound of it, you definitely needed it."

Purple stifled a wild laugh, the noise coming out as a loud hiss between his pristine teeth when Red raked his palms hotly down his face at the disgustingly sex positive slant he had forgotten Inquisitorians usually took. Had everyone heard his voice?!

Sledhob let his smile fade to a blank discretion as he looked over the gorgeous patch job Purple had managed to splay over the side of his once war-ravaged ship and dissected every weld and bolt with his all-seeing cherry gaze, leaning in and poking a veteran feeler at the hatch concealing the coolant before pulling back with a jovial noise of delight.

"Ah! You've done it, my boy! Beautiful work getting her to purr like new! I was afraid my mechanical beauty had taken quite a tumble with that one, but here she is right as rain!" He exclaimed, turning and patting Purple hard on the shoulder to knock the wind out of his lungs. "Now! Let us be on our way and reclaim your planet!"

* * *

**The Irken Capitol City of Veloria; **

Purple's heart broke.

Veloria was completely devastated. His once beautiful, glowing hometown had become the vision of tragic poverty and horrendous gang warfare; whole skyscrapers had been utterly demolished and crippled beyond repair, the streets were riddled with downed, gutted Spittle Runners and disgusting visions of looted goods, Irkens of all heights and ages trudged along out of fear as they dug through trashcans for the last traces of crumbs stuck to the outside of filthy snack wrappers. Under the rule of Pem and the Control Brains, the entire planet had fallen into a lucid, mind-numbing starvation as much-needed social projects were completely obliterated and fell to the wayside in favor of propping up the military to hammer the IRM and Inquisitoria with everything they could muster. Infrastructure, welfare, and funding for smeet camps beneath the surface no longer existed as rowdy, violent Irkens protested with improvised cardboard signs and threw empty tin cans up at Sledhob's ship as they neared the charred Tallest Tower hovering pathetically in the distance. Everything Purple had done for the poor during his shaky reign had been undone in an instant, torn to shreds by the risqué fantasies of a madman playing god. It was terrifying, tear-inducing, and conscious breaking to see the once influential pinnacle of Irken power this decrepit and blood-soaked. Drugs and sedative needles littered every corner as the masses attempted to forget their horrific situations, bodies were being collected by retching volunteers with still functioning ships to be moved to the landfill outside the city, and Sledhob had received intelligence that Smeetery 1 where Purple had been hatched had been raided and a number of lives had been unfortunately lost due to the inability and helplessness of the adult multitudes to feed their famished young.

It had become better to kill them off with their own hands then let them starve.

Red had held Purple's hands in his lap the entire way, shielding his violet gaze from the wide windshield the nearer they drew to the ground before their once prestigious tower turned brutal stronghold for the last prominent few of Irk's gentry, clutching him protectively to his shoulder when he felt his partner threaten to break down at the sheer nauseating body count he had observed on their leisure flight from Naphrus. They had come under heavy fire immediately upon landing, Sledhob's guard grabbing for wide riot shields as a throng of irate, ravenous Irkens stormed the descending hatch and began screaming out disgusting obscenities and voracious death threats as they caught the first glimpse of their former Tallest in months, throwing handfuls of revolting trash and trying to clock their rogue leaders with pistol grips as they were ushered along with Lard Nar and the Prime Minister into the ravaged front of their past establishment. Red kept his hands firmly glued to his partner's waist as Purple clutched at the reader housing their improvised political statement, staring resolutely at the ground as his antennae twitched wildly and craned into every damming, horrible insult shot their way over the bulletproof glass of formidable shields.

"Traitors! Get off our planet and go back to where you belong!"

"Fuck you, gay scum! My wife can't eat because you destroyed my pension!"

"Let me at 'em! Let me at 'em so I can give 'em a piece of my mind!"

"Your kind isn't welcome here, freaks! Irk would have been better off if you died in the war!"

"What, you've come back to finish us off now?!"

"M-My husband was a pilot and you shot him down! Y-You took him from me! H-He was innocent!"

Purple couldn't look up, passing through the shaded doorway of the Tallest Tower as Red trailed up his sides with compassionate, soothing palms from behind and tried to pacify the unbearable agony of their own people, the very subjects who had once given them undying deference and approbation, now slandering and smearing their names through the mud like they were garbage. No one was happy to see them in the slightest, livid eyes of officers in the lobby darting menacingly forward to glare from behind demolished pilot's visors and clink long fingers over loaded plasma rifles to try and intimidate their targets into submission as they kept on. Appalling graffiti had been sprayed against gold leafed walls, ruining the illusion of opulence with frightening, terroristic visions of Pem in his Vortian form and his strange philosophies of brutality. _Pem lives,_ was smeared sloppily on every corner along with stylized images of his curled horns erupting from behind the Irken imperial crest in a rancid display of clear anarchy the community obviously didn't understand but still used as the ferocious symbol of their haunting, violent cause. Why? Did they not understand that Pem was never on their side to begin with and wanted to use them for his own gain? Had the entire concept of Vortian-Irken racism died away completely overnight? Or, did they simply believe that Pem's acts of unwavering, eternal rebellion were something to look up to and use in their own situations to fuel the growing flame of defiance against the cracking regime?

The group stepped into the massive, barely functional elevator at the back of the grime covered foyer as a group of young, rogue Elite cadets stood and harshly flipped Purple off when he managed to peel his wounded gaze from the littered ground and flinch into the dreadful torture of knowing they still weren't accepted here even with the Collective finally destroyed.

"How's your hot friend, twink?! We heard she survived from the moon!" One of the horrendous soldiers wailed with a snooty laugh, alluding to the horrendous rape of Teem and her battered body after her crash landing.

They were still terrible. Still disgusting. Still out for IRM blood.

Why?

Purple couldn't stop asking himself, but still knew there would never be an answer. It would only be why. Only ever why and never because. Had he failed his people so drastically that they still wanted him to die a violent, brutal death even after being freed from their collective zombification? Did they not see the potential ramifications of their blind wallowings under the mechanical thumbs of the Control Brains? Would they ever realized that he and his husband saved them?

Guards filed in around them to carefully shroud their target objectives as the doors fazed shut and the creaky shaft tugged them on towards the massive pinnacle of the gorgeous symbol of Irken engineering gone cold and stagnant with iconoclastic, subversive influence.

"Don't listen to them, Pur." Red breathed against him, taking his partner's scarred hand in his and running his comforting fingers the length of his burn. "Everyone is shaken up right now and doesn't know what they're saying."

Purple didn't respond, staring blankly at the smidgen of light pouring through the minuscule crack in the elevator doors as they continued to scale floors up to their now shakily uncertain fate. What had they gotten themselves into? His anxiety began to bubble up in the back of his throat the nearer they grew to the top level of the aristocracy's supposed fortress, swallowing down the lump forming in his throat and trying to focus on the secure hold of his powerful husband clutching resolutely at his fingers.

"I'm not ready." He breathed suddenly, meeting Red's eye contact when the reality of what they were doing crashed down like a tidal wave and drowned him in the fear of the terrifying, infinitely shattered unknown. "I-I can't do this, Red. They don't want us here."

Red moved closer, guiding Purple's trembling fingers up to the crook of his arm as he leaned in and dropped his voice to a low whisper, slicing through the haze of uncertainty shrouding them both. "You told me on Inquisitoria that we could do this." He reminded firmly with a thick swallow, alerting his partner to his own insecurities but trying to stomp them out as they rapidly neared their unclear destination. "They agreed to meet us, and we're going to propose our plan and fix this mess. Look at me, Pur."

Purple hesitated but let his jittery, wandering gaze trail back to meet his husband's. He was sincere and tenacious, throwing on his iconic, cutthroat game face and assuaging Purple into tender deference for their main purpose here. He knew Red was right; they needed to maintain an objective approach and drown out the horrific defamation bouncing through their rattled skulls.

Red took him gently by the back of the neck and drew him in to graze their foreheads together as Sledhob's tibial spines clinked along the smooth metal of his spear. "I know you can do this. We're gonna give 'em hell, baby."

Purple smiled when he pulled away, straightening back up when they slowed to a stop and the doors squeaked open to reveal something wholly unexpected and nauseating. Purple went first, stepping into the generator induced light to stare across at the horrendous mountains of hoarded snack food and opulent jelly filled donuts making his mouth water as the scrumptious scent filled the air. Instant food wrappers littered the crumb covered floor as ravenous chews and smacks sounded from in front of the massive window spanning his and Red's previous office. The Veloria Aristocracy, a small group of shorter, portly, opulent Irkens that had clawed their way to the high life of society sat scattered about their old desk munching away at sickly sweet pastries and stuffing their faces with lollipops the ravenous, emaciated crowd below would literally kill one another to have. They had raided the whole of the city in the commotion, making a ridiculously clever pact with a few rogue Elite factions in exchange for a steady supply of sugar and consistent shelter in the innermost reaches of the tower as they let the public gnaw themselves to death and suck on filthy, plastic packages in the devastated streets below. Red fell in next, staring with mounting rage up at the large, beautifully commissioned paintings of him and Purple hanging haphazardly from the walls and spray painted to depict the both of them with tight ropes wrapped around their necks and dripping yellow frowns smeared over their once gracious faces.

Oh boy.

"Welcome to our humble abode!" A chipper voice rang out, shying back a bit as Sledhob scraped the hard end of his glittering electric spear along the callous metal of the soiled floor, intimidating whoever had spoken up into submission. "Ah. I see you've brought unexpected company. This was not part of our deal."

A tiny, stout Irken in a stuffy, overpriced suit of gorgeously cut magenta fabric leapt from his perch atop his claimed desk to stride forward with his coy hands behind his back, nodding forward to his former leaders with a false reverence that made the entire group sick to watch.

"My name is Drin. I spoke at length with a lovely little lady named Kez over transmission yesterday and she informed me that you would be traveling to _our_ tower to propose a new political system for _our_ planet?" Drin's snobbish emphasis of ownership made Purple uneasy as he ran his fingers over the rubber tinged edge of his reader, forcing himself to grin and extending down a hand to meet the dreadful nightmare he was going to have to cater towards and suck up to.

"It's very nice to meet you, sir!" He sang through his teeth, pulling back when Drin's penetrating ruddy eyes stared up at him from below and refused to take his sweating palm. He glanced to the side where Red had already gone on the harsh defensive, biting his sharp tongue and letting Purple take the lead in the conversation. "Yes, we were so happy that you decided to have us!"

Drin nodded leisurely, glancing over his shoulder to where his colleagues snickered harshly and revoltingly masticated on fun dip and pounded back carbonated soda. "Interesting." He mused teasingly, finally extending a hand to the desk before spinning on his heel and taking off to rocket himself into Red's personal command chair.

The four followed, positioning themselves dutifully as the guard waited with bated breath behind them, shields dropped respectfully to their sides as they held off for further instruction should anything go south. Purple glanced down and clicked his reader on, letting it warm up as he introduced the rest of the group in an attempt to clear the smothering, honey-tinged air to the obvious, dreadful aversion the Aristocracy felt towards their former personas.

"My name is Commander Purple, and this is my hus-…_colleague_ Commander Red." He cut himself short, unsure of how appropriate it would be to splay their controversial relationship before the group of Irkens that was to decide upon the fate of their entire planet. "I have also brought with me today King Lard Nar of Vort and Prime Minister Ab Sledhob of Inquisitoria to help better explain our vision of a cleaner, safer Irk for everyone regardless of height or status."

Drin kicked his boots up on the desk, knocking aside a few stray papers before throwing his head back to laugh and motioning for the others to follow suite. "Listen to the formality of this guy! Can you believe he used to run this place?!" He hooted wildly, spinning the chair around before slamming his palms down harshly on the desk and deeply frowning into the escalating hostility he was beginning to radiate outwards like a hot poker. "This wasn't the deal. Your communication's officer clearly stated that it would just be you and him," he jabbed an irate finger in Red's direction, "not these other two. You come into my domain with a Vortian terrorist that defied our planetary rule and attacked our Empire in the past and a former ally that destroyed the Irken-Inquisitorian treaty with hostile flyovers of our people? Not to mention an entire troop of Inquisitorian Imperial Guards waiting behind you to shoot me between the eyes if I make a move?"

Red took a step forward when Purple wavered, oozing domination and growling out his non-compliance clearly for the mess of rich buffoons to hear. "They're here and they're not leaving, so let's get on with this, shall we?" He snapped steadfastly, extending an impatient hand for the reader and snatching it firmly away when Purple passed it along. "We have drafted a forty page constitutional set of rights we would like to read to you based on the democratic foundations of the Inqusitorian Doctrine of Fundamental Principles and their balanced justice system. We have come here today believing this will rectify the violent riots happening over our planet and-"

Drin held up a hand and tutted his tongue. "Shut up." He spat, reaching out and motioning for the device before tossing it harshly over his shoulder to Red's immediate surprise. "We have no intention of listening to anything you tall idiots have to say."

Lard Nar straightened his brooch and cleared his throat. "Please, sir, if you would hear out my colleagues, I think you will find that their plan is beneficial for you all-"

Drin rudely cut him off again with an irritated sigh, snapping for one of his chocolate covered assistants to pass him their own drafted paper and pen before sliding it over the top of the desk. "Would you stop talking? You're a terrorist and have no say in the business of my people." He blinked and returned his attention to where Purple and Red stood dumbfounded and reeling from the sheer force of the unexpected political blow forced back in their credulous faces. "Former Tallest Red, former Tallest Purple, we had no intention of ever hearing out what you wanted to say. We decided that inviting you here under the guise of asylum would be the only way to finally seal this painful, regrettable deal we unfortunately have to make with you." The heavy sarcasm in his squeaky voice was palpable, causing Purple's pulse to lurch in his chest when his husband mounted a hot, unwavering counterattack.

"What do you mean you had no intention of hearing us out?!" Red shouted irately, pounding his palms down upon the desk to get in Drin's self-righteous face. "We're the only one's living in this entire universe that have ruled this Empire and we're giving you the opportunity to learn from that and take over the planet peacefully! We're not coming here to steal back the office, we're not coming here to tell you what to do, we're coming here to offer our services you all desperately need!" He threw an arm wide and gritted his broken smile to the appalling mountains of sustenance scattered about in sugared heaps. "It looks like you _do_ need our help, sir, because you've _accidentally_ monopolized the entire food supply in the city! Should we just go downstairs and tell the poor public what happened to it all while you're _accidentally_ sitting up here with your friends well fed while they starve to death? Or are you going to listen to what my husband and I have to say?"

Drin rolled his wide eyes at Red's menacing threat to out the disgusting greed of the supposedly kind Aristocracy to their former public, unperturbed in the slightest as he snapped his fingers. "I was hoping we could get on with this the easy way, but I suppose that was never what you two were known for, was it?"

Two Elite soldiers popped up from under the desk and trained two heating long rifles expertly on their startled targets, forcing Red back as he threw himself in front of his partner and readied himself to rush forward and flip the cadets should they try anything risky. Sledhob immediately went on the defensive with Lard Nar who threw his hands in the air, ready and itching to get back into the appalling thick of the grisly action he had come to crave like an old friend. The Imperial Guard behind them gasped and flew to attention, wavering in heated frustration when their Prime Minister threw out a tentative hand, silencing their advance when the trained officers scowled and moved their fingers to their sensitive triggers.

The Aristocracy really had no intention of hearing the two out, Drin shimmying down from his high seat to stalk around the harsh edge of the desk and stare up at his tall objectives. "I want to thank you on behalf of the people of Irk for severing our ties to the Control Brains and the Collective. Without your service we would not be able to have rational thought." He began. "However, upon realizing that very sentience that we had been deprived, our people have come to realize the weight of what you two had done, or should I say _not_ done, for our public. Let's review, shall we? As Tallest you promoted social programs but forced us into conquest that was not necessary, creating millions of enemies for our planet throughout the galaxy and leaving us venerable now that the Empire has fallen. You pushed us around, bullied us, and called us shorters for cycles until you were dethroned by the hero, Pem Goor, and his rebellion."

"Hero?! He wanted to let you all suffer so he could take over Vort! He was ready to let Irk die for his cause!" Purple yelled back desperately, holding firm when the loaded barrel of a blistering rifle moved between his eyes from over Red's shoulder.

"Yes, but he also instilled in us a pride to take back what was ours from the seat of Tallest!" Drin growled hotly. "Let me finish, please? You evaded trial, became the figureheads of the IRM, who we were originally planning on commissioning to assassinate you until you assumed control before we could dip our funds into their resources, and uprooted ancient Irken social law by performing an illegal marriage. All the while, in the six months you were gone, we suffered an increase in taxes, unemployment rates of over 34 percent, homelessness of 38 percent, and a lack of direct leadership that forced us to do what we must."

"What, to attempt to control the public by taking their food?!" Red retorted furiously, uprooting the vague point Drin was trying to make. "You've let the planet fall into complete chaos! I've read the reports! Women are starving, men are pumping themselves with drugs to forget the pain, and our smeets are being murdered because there's not enough resources to take care of them anymore! Let us help you!"

"We don't need your help anymore!" Drin barked maniacally, grabbing the paper and thrusting it up into Red's hands. "We plan to pass out the remaining rations here to the public and bring aid back to the streets when the gang wars die down. We had to move our food supply here to keep it out of the hands of drug lords! Yeah, we're indulging in a bit of comfort, but this is for the ultimate good of the people! Now, sign the damn paper and get out off of our planet before I change my mind and kill you where you stand!"

Red glanced down to the single page of the short drafted docket, reading over the small paragraph of demands and only growing more nauseated with every word he ran his scrutinizing gaze over. "We, Prime Minister Drin and the Veloria Aristocracy, unofficially self-elected cabinet of the Irken Empire, officially exile former Tallest Red and former Tallest Purple from all known Irken held territories for war crimes against the state. The individuals named above will leave the Irken airspace for the duration of their lives and will not receive any further aid from the Empire. Citizenship papers for former Tallest Red, former Tallest Purple, former Elite Commander Teem, former food service drone Kez, and others named in the packet enclosed with this document have been removed and no asylum shall be given to the Irkens named under any circumstances. They will have no contact with any Irken official on the surface of the planet, are stripped of any remaining security clearance to contact the Armada and other known military and are no longer allowed access to Irken resources of any kind (medical, monetary, and the like). This exile is effective immediately; signed and approved by Prime Minister Drin and the Veloria Aristocracy." Red trailed off and let the paper slip to the floor when Purple gripped at his shoulders from behind.

No.

Irk was…kicking them out?

No…this wasn't how things were supposed to end for them. This wasn't supposed to happen! Their planet was supposed to welcome them back as war heroes and listen genially to their foolproof plan to overhaul the government for the better, not forcibly label them all as social outcasts destined to never return! They had fought valiantly to save their people because they cared about them regardless of the appalling things they had done in the past, and they were….they were…_exiled_?! Purple felt his beautiful dreams of living out the rest of his days in Naphrus with Red slipping through his trembling fingers as Drin stooped to retrieve the paper with an irritated shake of the head and gingerly replace it upon his desk, holding up a pen to urge the two to sign away the last thread of hope they had been hanging onto. Their own people didn't want them. Their own planet was being torn away from them. They would never be allowed to have their own picturesque home like they had talked so excitedly about, their own stunning, traditional Irken wedding ceremony for their friends to attend, or their own dream jobs to finally give back to the community they had hoped would wholeheartedly accept them after the fall of the dastardly Collective; they had been officially cut off from the very culture they had battled ruthlessly to defend, ostracized as nothing more than war criminals, and openly laughed at for their divisive marriage.

He and Red were nobodies here…they were stateless, penniless, homeless, and had no hope of ever returning to the incredible place they were born.

"Excuse me, Prime Minister Drin, was it?" Sledhob piped up as Purple threatened to burst into hot tears at the overwhelming decision his own race had made to destroy his records. "These two saved your people from annihilation and went out of their way to make sure that Irkens like you could remain within their own frames of mind. Is it not wrong to exile the very beings who saved you all?"

"Prime Minister Sledhob, I also wanted to thank you for aiding in the destruction of the Control Brains, but your men murdered thousands of mine. I want to personally congratulate you on ruining any chance of an alliance with the Irken Empire. As for you," Drin let his eyes trail down to meet Lard Nar's, snickering at his brooch, "We'll be keeping the Vortian generator that former Tallest Miyuki's regime constructed for our planet but I am personally removing the remaining troops from Vort as we speak. You may have your destroyed planet back, but don't expect any further aid from my people to yours."

"I-I'm not signing anything! You can't do this to us! I was a war hero and your best ace before I became Tallest! I didn't even want the job!" Red practically pleaded as his partner covered his face with his hands and let his mind-numbing, heartbreaking emotions take his weary mind, hot tears flooding through his fingers as he sobbed. "Everything we've done, we've done to try and restore Irk back to greatness!"

"Yes, but what you don't realize is we don't _want_ you here anymore." Drin was growing exasperated, frustratedly trying to get his firm, unwavering doctrine across. "You tall ones are nothing but trouble, and the shorter public is taking back control! We don't need your help, we don't need your opinion, and we will pull our planet out of these harrowing times _without_ you! You're so presumptuous and disgusting you know? Coming down here and thinking you're so high and mighty with your ridiculous height like you're the only ones out there with a plan to fix things! Sign this and get off my planet or I'll be forced to shoot you and end your story like the public wants!"

"I'm not signing anything and neither is he! You can take my home, my money, even my office. I don't care! Have it! But if you think for one second that you're going to be able to steal my identity as an Irken, you're sorely mistaken." Red winced when he felt Purple scramble for his hand and brace for action, wiping away the liquid agony from his cheeks to stand tall next to his partner.

He sniffed, trying to hold it together and look strong and formidable but immedialty failing under the dominating gaze of the new Irk order bearing down on him like a ton of horrendously callous bricks. "I-I won't sign. Please…this is our home! Where are we supposed to live?! I-I was born here in Veloria, doesn't that mean anything to you?!" He sobbed, hoping with every fiber of his being that Drin and his cabinet would be soft enough to give them a chance, an outpost on a moon, _anything_ to keep them close to the only place they felt truly at peace. "I-I was shot for Irk and now I can't even live peacefully in my h-home?! P-Please, you can't do this! Y-You can't do this to us!" He threw himself into Red's arms when he finally gave up, unraveling completely and bawling audibly into his partner's shoulder as he shook.

"Don't you two realize I'm being generous, here?" Drin sighed forlornly, gesturing up at the disgusting visage their portraits had become under the sloppy graffiti smeared messily over their faces. "That's what they want to do to you. The public wants to string you up outside and hang you from a lamp post for the years of unfair treatment you forced upon them all because they were smaller than you. You unfortunately brought this upon yourselves, war heroes or not, and I'm trying to offer you an out so you can at least escape with your lives. Now, please, sign the paper if you know what's good for you."

Red ran his cold, hollow touch up over Purple's shoulders as he thought, staring down at the paper and closing his eyes to the hot pools staining the sleeve of his shirt. If he didn't consent to exile, he would be risking not only his life but the lives of Sledhob and Lard Nar…and Purple. He leaned in and kissed his distraught, heartbroken other half lightly on the cheek, watching in hollow, bitter distain as the whole of the Aristocracy stuck out their tongues and laughed amongst one another at their tender display of affection. Even if they fought this…even if they tried to contest the doctrine splayed before them like the deepest, darkest, most gruesome nightmare blooming into a viscous reality…they would never be able to live here. Red felt the dreadful, vile heft of the strenuous realization sink bitterly into his spooch as every fantastical concept of peaceful living in the forest with his beloved spouse shattered and revealed the ingrained mess that still plagued the minds of their race. They were outsiders to the norm known only for their past, not the blinding, beautiful heroism of their present. They were two males against millions trying with all their might to prove that love mattered above all, not frigid social tradition that no longer made any sense.

They had fought for nothing.

They had won for nothing.

The least Red could do was shield his sobbing, inconsolable, brokenhearted lover away from the prying snickers and soul-crushing stares of revolting victory pouring off of the Irkens they thought they could come here and trust only to be mercilessly stepped on and demeaned to the lowest level they could have ever imagined.

They had no choice…Irk was no longer their home.

When Red spoke, the resounding power to his voice had been muted by the scrambling claws digging into his shirt and the harrowing, haunting cries shattering his rational judgment. He had to get Purple away from this place. "Fine. You want to let the Empire fall and eat itself alive? Go ahead. Purple and I will leave and never return." He paused when Drin's eyes lit up and sparked with a dreadful triumph that made Red want to vomit. "But I'm not signing that. I will never give over my last shred of dignity, or the dignity of my husband, to someone like you."

Drin's immediate attention turned sour, the glimmer of warm compliance in his wide, rosy eyes fading to something darker and disparaging. He looked slowly back to the paper he needed to officialize the ruthless expulsion in the name of the already questionable Irken law before chewing on his tongue and straightening the wide lapel of his silken suit.

"Are you sure this is what you really want, Red? I need that signature in order to authorize this with my cabinet." He explained bleakly with a sinister undertone, eyeing Sledhob closely when his feeler crept closer to the electric switch on his staff. "Think carefully now."

Red shook his head in defeat, rubbing soothing circles along the seam of his partner's PAK as he wailed against his skin. "I'm sure." He mumbled under his breath, broken down completely and protecting the precious decorum of Purple's destroyed mindfulness. "I don't care what you say about me, but he's too good for this. You made my husband cry. You hurt him in ways that I can never forgive. I'll leave…but my decision stands firm; I will never sign that paper."

Purple blinked when he felt Red's hands trail down his waist and stiffen, hooking his claws in waves into his skin to silently gain his attention for a dangerous, perilous ploy that was regrettably to come. He looked up in misunderstanding as his partner clutched at him a final time and took a sharp breath, throwing him hard to the floor with a shrill war cry and vaulting forward to rip the warming rifle away from the closest cadet, immediately pressing the stock to his good shoulder and firing on expert impulse, splattering Drin's vibrant blood across the desk behind him as his lifeless body hit the ground in a mangled heap. The Aristocracy immediately began to scream and scramble like insects, attempting to escape the carnage and call for reinforcements against the horrors Red had decided to unleash upon them. Lard Nar grabbed for Purple when Red continued to mount his assault, taking out one of the stunned officers in a fanatical rage as the Imperial Guard rushed forward to aid Prime Minister Sledhob who raked through the remaining, defenseless cabinet members with blistering electricity, liquifying their internal spooches with thousands of volts of rugged power vaulting in impressive arcs of uncultivated lightning from the tip of his sharp spear. Red turned on impulse and made a mad dash for his shell-shocked husband, helping his brother to scoop him up and force him through the deafening ring of plasma shots and dripping blood to pry open the doors to the elevator. Sledhob followed close at their heels, barking orders as he went and hoping his impeccably trained soldiers could hear over the carnage and thunderous, sweltering noise.

"Protect the Commanders! Protect the King! They must not lay their hands on-"

Purple cried out in shrill, panicked horror when the second Elite officer fired a single shot through the back of the Prime Minister's skull, shattering his vision and painting the floor of the grimy elevator deep, navy blue with his stinging, acrid blood as he immediately dropped to the ground and exhaled his final breath into the aether. The powerful head of the Inquisitorian Federation…the one ally they all had left was assassinated.

Ab Sledhob was dead.

Purple slumped back against the cool metal of the elevator as he went into shock, sliding to the floor as the same subdued, nauseous, lifeless feeling from the gory Judgementian front took him a second time, muffling his antennae as Red turned in slow motion and opened fire, the kick back of his rifle ripping through his shoulder as he braced himself expertly against the elevator frame. Sledhob's flaccid, twisted body was slung over the collective shoulders of the troop as they filed in one by one and cradled the unrecognizable face of their intelligent, esteemed leader to their armor and shielded his destroyed body from further fire, the door to the elevator finally closing shut as they all descended from the unfortunate hell they had opened up against themselves.

Red slung the fabric strap of his rifle over his shoulder and flew down to grab at Purple's cheeks, frantically trying to get through to him and wipe the mess of their friend's blood from his stupefied face as he screamed over the ghastly, gruesome pandemonium and retching of Inquisitorian soldiers doubling over and getting physically sick from the sight of their powerful, immensely respected figurehead dying in such a brutal, uncivilized exhibition of mangled flesh and razed bone.

Sledhob was gone.

Irk had kicked them out.

There was no peace.

There was no safety.

"Pur! Pur look at me right now!" Red shook him violently by the shoulders as he finally came to and the remaining color drained from his face at the appalling, disgusting sights unfolding around him.

"O-Oh fuck…n-no. No, no, no! Red! W-What…w-what just happened?!" He cried feebly over the anarchy, frantically trying to wipe away the still warm gore from his deceased friend's body staining the front of his clothing as he burst into another round of frantic, untamed tears. "T-They…"

"Honey, look at me! Don't look at Sledhob, look at _me_!" Red took him by the jaw and diverted his terrified attention back to his eyes, trying to give him an anchor in the mind-numbing terror as his antennae buzzed and vibrated with wraithlike sounds he had hoped he would never see again. "Keep it together, Purple. Keep it together and breathe. You're strong, you're brave, and you have to do exactly what I say. Do you trust me?"

"I-I…Irk, R-Red! T-there's so much blood! I-I…I can't do this! I can't do this anymore!" He bawled, trying to push his partner away but finding himself stuck firm in his hold.

Red clenched his jaw and tried not to lose himself to the agony pouring off of his terrified partner in waves. "I know, baby! I know!" He smoothed his palms back over Purple's flushed, tear-streaked cheeks and tried desperately to break through the wall of excruciating dissociation trying frantically to shield his already dismayed mind from the oozing violence. "I know you're tired. You're so tired and I can see it, but I promise we'll get away from this place and find a home where we can rest for cycles if you want! We'll get out of here and I'll make you breakfast and we'll have a beautiful wedding but you have to listen to me! Do you trust me?" He grabbed Lard Nar and thrust him under his arm as they neared the final level of the nightmare of a tower their former home had become. "Please, Purple! Do you trust me?!"

Purple folded forward into Red's touch when he yanked him domineeringly to his feet and forced him in front of his body, wrapping his free arm over his shoulder and slinging the rifle forward as he frantically readjusted his grip on Lard Nar when he threatened to slip. On a whim, Red reached down and snatched for an Inquisitorian shield in the bedlam ensuing around them and thrust it into his trembling partner's hands, positioning him to where he could fire around the impervious glass.

"R-Red, I'm not ready for this! I-I…w-what…I-I don't wanna do this anymore!"

"I know, honey! It's going to be ok, I promise, you just have to run! No matter what happens or what you hear, if you feel me pull away, you keep running and get on that ship!" Red let his determined gaze flick up to the rapidly encroaching number signaling their arrival on the ground floor as the guard braced themselves behind him.

"B-but I-!"

"Please, Purple! You just have to run!"

* * *

Oh boy! We have Lard Nar going down a dark path, mantis dad in literal pieces, and our two boys displaced without a home! Join us next time to see what happens for our next update and have a happy holiday to those of you living in America! Love you all around the world and thanks for tuning in!

_**Next Update: Sunday, December 1, 2019 at 10:00 pm CDT (UTC -5)! See you then!**_


	31. Home Is WHO Your Heart Is

Welcome back lovelies to this episode of My Kind! I am honestly so super excited for this chapter, because I've planned a few things that I think will be fun!

Welcome **Teacuplevi **to the follow family! Also thank you for adding this fic to your favorites list, lovely! I really appreciate you and I hope you have fun with the family we've amassed!

**GLORIOUS FANART ALERT:** Guys. GUYS. ONE OF MY ART IDOLS DID FANART FOR OUR FIC AND I'M HYPERVENTILATING RIGHT NOW. **rrraaaaiiiiiii** on Instagram posted three GLORIOUS PIECES depicting scenes from our chapter "The Collective Reveals Itself" which is chapter 24 I think (lol it's bad that I don't remember!) THESE. THESE ARE GORGEOUS AND I SCREAMED ABOUT THEM FOR LITERALLY LIKE THIRTY MINUTES SO I WANTED TO SHARE THEM UP HERE AND YOU GUYS SHOULD GO FOLLOW THEM AT **rrraaaaiiiiiii** on Instagram. Also follow their main art account **raizuey** because words cannot express how much I love their art style! Thank you angel if you're reading this! I love you!

p/B5gYKMRH7OW/ (post found on Instagram)

Also, I just wanna say that everyone who has done fanart, seriously thank you. That makes me so damn happy and honestly makes me cry every time it happens. I accept fanart from anyone who wants to do it and will link any work in the top of the chapters regardless of what you feel your skill level is, because I _truly_ appreciate your work no matter what. You all are amazing artists and deserve all the recognition in the world, and I adore you all! Love you bunches angels!

(THIS CHAPTER HAS NOT BEEN READ BY BETA READER TOM WHO IS STILL ON VACATION. I APPOLOGIZE FOR ANY MINOR GRAMATICAL MISTAKES, SLIGHT REDUNDANCY, OR SPELLING ERRORS. GERMAN IS MY FIRST LANGUAGE. THANK YOU ANGELS!)

**Chapter rated M for graphic depictions of blood/violence/potential gore, brief strong language, allusions to mental disorders/suicide, mentions of racism, mention of drug use, suggestive themes, and general adult content.**

* * *

**An undefinable amount of time in the recent past;**

Warm tea.

Musky, herby, liquid goodness.

This was the best way to start off the day and warmed him to his chilled fingers as he clasped at his expensive china teacup he had stolen from a high class bar and dug into the strange mainframe of his invader's gauntlet with a cheap, makeshift tool he had built from scratch. Dull olive eyes stared longingly out of the pale pink viewing port of the improvised, outdated Irken Voot he had somehow managed to hijack in his fit of rage. Space was so vast, so unpredictable and callous…where was he to go from here? Who would even want him?

Pem winced and drew back with a yelp of surprise, bringing the burned tips of his fingers to his mouth through his thin gloves and setting his teacup gingerly to the side as his project sparked in his lap. He cursed lightly under his breath and set the ship to autopilot, drifting aimlessly in the vast reaches of the Meekrob star system as he worked fervently to restore the piece of priceless technology he had taken off of an unfortunate Planetary Conversion Specialist back on Vort. Thinking about it made him feel sick to his stomach, the grisly, gory details of the young officer's unfortunate, disgusting death at his own hand bringing him back to a darker place he had hoped he would never creep into again. He reached up, shucking his engineering goggles and tossing them over the armrest of the seat with desperate, mounting irritation before brushing the shorting gauntlet to the floorboards and throwing his bruised elbows up on the frigid dash with a thick sniff, letting his head hang forlornly in his clammy hands and his curled horns go limp over his forehead.

What was he doing?

What was the point?

He had run over some semblance of a plan to confront the Irken Empire in his frazzled, exhausted mind since his daring prison break nearly a week prior and his impromptu takeover of a small Irken outpost, but since then all he could think about what the horrendous blood on his hands that he couldn't seem to scrub clean. He had washed his hands raw, covered them with thick leather gloves he had found in the back seat of his stolen ship, and still he couldn't seem to rid himself of the gooey, dripping feeling of hot liquid life oozing through his unsteady fingers and staining him bright pink with his mind-numbing, terroristic fervor. He tried to pull himself together, bending forward with a long, low sigh to retrieve his frustrating project from the floorboards and try to break through the internal coding for the thousandth time with a bitter distain settling in the pit of his half-starving stomach.

Pem had gotten used to failure. That's what he was after all in the moment…a _failure_.

He had failed to protect his wife and daughter.

He had failed to adequately provide for himself after his breakout.

He had failed to hone in on Lard Nar's coordinates.

His love had gone and left him in a grimy, filth ridden prison to be pummeled by sharp claws, stuck with long needles and injected with exotic substances that turned his blood boilingly acidic, and agonizingly experimented on with drool inducing electricity for torturous cycles. He had been subjected to water boarding and half drowned for information he didn't know, had been excruciatingly shocked to hysterical blindness after his attempted suicide and thrown in a padded room with no light, and had his delicate, once logical mind fried into submission when he was selected by a group of Irken scientists to test out new hallucinogenic and psychiatric substances for fun. He had seen things…dark, unearthly things in those forcefully intoxicated, fear induced states of raw panic. They came for what remained of his soul in his feverish nightmares and never allowed him to rest, forcing him to sleep stark naked to combat the blistering sweat and inching their icy fingers around his shivering shoulders to pull him down into a proverbial abyss of self-loathing and sheer, unabridged terror every time he closed his eyes. He had been good, so very good, and still the green menace seemed to think his supple body and elastic mind were perfect for unravelling piece by piece until Pem no longer recognized himself in the mirror. He was a mess of scarred skin underneath his prison uniform, long lacerations from hot pokers laughingly shoved into his back for fun, harsh leather belts whipped across his chest to force him into submission when he got the rare courage to speak up against the irrational abuse, and deep, raised claw wounds from the myriad of pitiful prison fights he had unfortunately found himself in when he instinctually fought for rotting food scraps discarded in the garbage. He was painted with permanent hatred, stained with the cruelty he could never unsee, and made ugly in his own eyes with gross amounts of cosmetic distain. He would never show his body again, carefully cradling his ruined skin under thick layers of cloth so all that was visible to himself was his gaunt face and terrified of what Lard Nar would say about his physical appearance when they would finally meet again.

He felt broken...felt revolting to the eye.

Pem flinched in disgust when he caught sight of himself reflected in the windshield, reaching up with slow, trembling fingers to button the top of his collar and conceal his violently bruised neck from the quarrel he had endured with Irken officers seven days ago, feeling hot, angry tears well up in his eyes every time he caught sight of the sweltering shades of deep purple and nauseating blues splayed over his skin. They should have killed him after they pinned him in the corner to call for reinforcements but he had managed to scramble away in an inebriated, terror fueled fog and snatch for a P-44 plasma pistol, immediately blasting through the six innocent men reduced to nothing more than unrecognizable hunks of hanging flesh and shimmering blood in the florescent light as he cried pathetically to himself and got brutally ill on the telltale, metallic scent. Before his escape, he had never fired a gun. He had a policy of peace in his engineering lab, furiously denying the presence of weapons as they went against everything he and his philanthropic work stood for and opting for a kind, compassionate approach to the mounting Irken racism at the time. He had been sure that he could have stopped the wave of Vortian slurs at his curled horns from his Irken employees, halt the officers coming around through his studies to evaluate the color of his skin tone in preparation for his separation into a servants camp he had never known was coming, and break up the steely, uncomfortable language barrier by deeply studying complex Irken books in his free time. He was wrong. Now, his shaky aim was improving and he had learned where to target for maximum damage to the sensitive internal organs of his soulless enemies, had bawled himself to some semblance of plagued slumber at horrendous flashbacks of excruciating pain blinding him to screaming submission, and was reminded every day of the destruction of his beautiful culture by the pained limp in his leg and his disgusting, imperfect chest and razed back.

He could feel himself slipping psychologically, eating himself alive like a self-cannibalistic monster until he was nothing but an emaciated bag of loose skin and brittle bones drifting meaninglessly through the glittering stars.

There would be days when Pem would find his mind completely clear and uncluttered by the toils of dastardly war or vicious bloodshed, where he could actively write out his long, tedious plans to confront the Empire in a log book he had stolen from the outpost, but there were other days where he would stare blankly at himself for hours in the two square foot cleansing room in the back of his ship and meditate on the image of broken imperfection he had been reduced to. At first it was simple, a dissociation from the physical that made his head swim with a lack of needed chemicals as he tried not to vomit what little he had scrapped together to eat through a few burgling jobs on planets he had been fortunate enough to pass, but then things grew quickly more complicated then he could handle. Pem was an engineer, a member of the Vortian Intelligence Society, and a young man proud of his ingenious, tranquil work on cleaner military technology. Now, that very brain power was wavering dangerously, ebbing between cognizant lucidity and spiraling madness from the thousands of perilous, cell-altering drugs forced down his unwilling throat by smothering hands and pumped through his veins by curious, cruel scientists wanting nothing more than to tick off a few symptom boxes on their clipboards as he writhed in his own sweat and hallucinated visions of snarling, cutthroat beasts. He had performed a preliminary scan on himself back in the tiny med bay of the Irken outpost on Vort, appalled completely by the hundreds of tiny pinpoints of dead matter dotting his sickening brain scan and taking from him the once astounding ability to rationalize infinitely long equations in his sleep and slap together usable aerospace tools in mere hours. Now he could barely recognize simple division, resorting to counting on his fingers as he tinkered and shouting irately at nothing when he couldn't bring himself to understand no matter how hard he tried. The only things left flitting about in his damaged, depleted psyche were the need to dominate those who had wronged him, the undying longing for Lard Nar deep in his heart that he could never swallow, and the extensive demolitions knowledge he had picked up at the lab from testing a myriad of newer bomb technology.

Was he stupid? Definitely not. Pem knew his shattered, obliterated IQ was still miles above average as he sipped lightly on the final drops of his decaf tea and tried to bring his much-needed gauntlet online through ruthless experimentation. Was he genius? Also no. He was a shell of the incredible glory he had once been, resorting to the bubbling of violent instinct rattled awake and shook to existence by the torture he had endured and the traumatic, senseless cultural atrocities he had witnessed. All he knew now was that he had to somehow get into the Irken Empire, to make them pay for crippling his thoughts and joints. He had to confront the grotesquely impudent leaders of the revolting race he had come to loathe, Tallest Red and Tallest Purple, and bring them ferociously to their knees to prove to them that Vort still had a voice against the prison riots and decrepit debris strung about in the lack of atmosphere. And, he would find Lard Nar. He would find him and take him away from the disgusting, twisted horrors of the Resisty and make a tranquil, peaceable home for them to finally be safe in for the first time since the war. They both deserved that…right? They may be woeful failures together right now strung about the stars where soft fingertips could never touch against the distance, but through failure comes determination to get up and try again, and Pem was not going to lounge back and let the cruel mistress of the Universe whip him into a shape he no longer wanted to be. He wasn't an engineer anymore; he was a powerful, all-knowing prophet, a brilliant insurrectionist bent on burning Irk to the ground, and the collective sorrows, pain, and undying love of all those lost in the Irken-Vortian Conflict. He was the iron will of King Pol Krin's last shaky breath before he was murderously shot off-planet, he was the heartbreaking tears staining Lard Nar's bloody cheeks after every agonizing blow to his jaw from their captors, and he was the soft blubber of his innocent, infant daughter displaced to the system as nothing more than a pet for the Irken menace.

He was their voice.

He was their anguish.

He was their immortal, undying redemption.

* * *

**The Irken Capitol City of Veloria; Present Day;**

Purple felt his pulse leap into his throat as Red reached around to cock the slide on his plasma rifle, wincing as his husband's claws latched into his hipbone through his gore slathered flannel and squeezing his eyes shut to the panicked, rushed breathing of Lard Nar firmly clutched under his arm. He could smell the sizzling acid of Sledhob's thin, watery blood dripping from his mangled face and shuddered at the eerie, haunting wails of the Imperial Guard clutching desperately at the limbs of their lifeless, paling leader and trying with all of their nauseating, pitiful might to somehow get him to respond. He tried to focus on Red's touch rubbing up over his scar to try and get his numbed, still shocked mind back in the violent game they were about to play, but he couldn't. Purple was exhausted physically, but more so mentally, feeling the crushing, cruelly brutal weight of tear-inducing exile squashing him like an insect under a boot and destroying every long, beautiful, picturesque dream he had told himself for reassurance on a near constant loop. His life with Red was ruined. There was no conceivable way that they could ever live peacefully now; mercenaries and bounty hunters would be on their heels for the rest of their woeful, unworthily lives if they even found a suitable place that would grant them citizenship. They could attempt talks with Inquisitoria again, but Sledhob had been ruthlessly assassinated for their cause in their presence and his now widowed wife, Sariah, would be stepping up to take the office over for herself. There was no chance in hell that she would allow them to maintain residence on her planet now that their cause had indirectly gotten her loving husband killed in cold blood and left her young, twin sons without the tender guidance and kisses of their father. It was safe to say that the IRM's relationship with Inquisitoria was probably done.

"You can do this. Breathe." Red mumbled with a quick, adrenaline-fueled kiss to the back of Purple's neck, growing wary when the Imperial Guard began to eye them suspiciously from where they hovered tear-stained above their deceased ruler.

Purple wasn't sure if he was reassuring him or himself, clutching shakily at the clear glass of his heavy, wide riot shield as the terrifying door finally dinged, fazing open as Red braced himself firmly against the ground to sprint and immediately forced Purple forward to leave behind the grueling, horrendously brutalized body of the friend they had developed to have. A group of Elite soldiers nearby shouted in bewildered confusion at the telltale stench of iron-laden blood, antennae perking in terror and diving behind makeshift barricades as Red opened deafening fire and aimed for brightly colored eyes. Purple flattened his blown-out, ringing antennae against this skull as the piercing vibration of sizzling plasma shots throbbed like a second heartbeat through his body and overtook the pace of his wild pulse. Red kept up his advances with keen sight and well-practiced hands as he forced Purple along through the dirty, littered foyer, yelping sharply when a sudden body collided with his bad shoulder and wrestled him ferociously to the ground in a cloud of snarling growls and gnashing, animalistic teeth, forcing him to drop Lard Nar hard to the soiled floor as he brawled aggressively with the strong arms of an Elite officer he vaguely recognized from his training days in Naphrus. Purple immediately skidded to a slick stop and turned on his toes without thinking to rush back into the thick of the intense scuffle when the officer somehow managed to forcibly rip the rifle from his husband's hands and thrust it up against his shoulder to aim between his eyes.

"Well, well, well! Commander Red!" The petite officer snarled through his sharp teeth, forcing Red further into the cool floor when he struggled to flip the officer's weight. "Ironic that the troop you trained over 200 cycles ago is going to be the one to off you, huh?"

Purple dropped the shield to the ground and tore past Lard Nar who had opened up a furious, sadistic fistfight with someone twice his size, dodging a harsh punch and tackling his surprised opponent to the ground. No. Purple was done. He was exhausted, mentally on the edge, and ready to get away from all of this violence and bloodshed. This was too much too quickly, flipping a sudden, deeply vicious switch entrenched in his devastated psyche as he watched the officer toy with his spouse and force the barrel of his blistering hot gun against the sensitive skin of his cheek; the cheek he kissed in the morning. The cheek he slept next to. The cheek he palmed for reassurance when Red leaned into his affectionate presence.

No.

No one touched Red like that and got away from it. No one...n-no one was going to hurt his partner. No one on this disgusting, wretched planet and no one amongst the stars would take Red away from him.

"Get your hands off him!" Purple screamed a fervent, guttural war cry and collided hard with the officer, throwing him a few feet and pursuing his stunned, wavering form as Red coughed and scrambled for the rifle to chase after his irate, blinded lover.

The Inquisitorian guard dubiously snuck their way through the mayhem as the others were tortuously distracted with their own battles, shielding Sledhob's hole riddled body and slinging him feebly over shoulders as they sprinted for the door and took heavy fire.

"Red!" Lard Nar shouted after his friend when he caught sight of the daring escape, crying out when he was swept from his agile feet and immediately rolling to the side to dodge a booming, thunderous plasma shot to the ground as he tried to maintain a grip on his shell-shocked senses. "T-The guard! They're leaving us behind!"

Red nearly choked at the horrendous observation, staring out at the skittering group abandoning them to their own violent people and leaving them in their disappointed, traitorous dust in a terrified scramble to move the Prime Minister's stiffening body to safety away from the firefight. They had no concern for the safety of Red and his family, opting to forget them completely as their massive flagship warmed outside and the hatch closed visibly through the dimly lit entrance to the Tallest Tower.

Shit! Shit no! This isn't what Sledhob would have wanted! He would have wanted them to fight and protect Red and his family, to ensure Lard Nar remained the standing King of Vort, and to shield Purple's soft skin from further scars. This wasn't fair! They were going to be stranded on planet with their own duplicitous, former people trying to rip at their spooches and wanting to string them up from lamp posts to choke on their last breaths. He shot his gaze back to where Purple grappled with the officer who had domineeringly pinned Red under his thighs as he heavily contemplated if he had time to go after the troop and force them to see some sense, quickly realizing through his husbands awful, violent cries that he couldn't leave him to the masses. They were a team, they were a family, and they were going to stay that way.

"Let 'em go!" He decided upon with reluctant panic, aiming for the monster digging his sharp claws into his partner's jaw and expertly firing, knocking them both back and splattering the unfortunate soldier to the distance as his body immediately rocketed to the ground. "Pur, it's just the three of us!"

Purple dashed forward and tackled Red to the ground as another scorching hot bolt of dangerous white plasma careened overhead. "What do you mean, it's just the three of us?!" He yelled back over the strident noise, grabbing Red firmly and tugging him to his feet to fend off another domineering counter-offensive with his bare, bloodthirsty hands. "Where is the Imperial Guard?!"

Red went for Lard Nar who had been all but pummeled into bruised dust by a female pilot turned rogue and determined to rip him to shreds, slinging his arms around her waist and hurtling her towards the far wall with as much strength as he could muster. "They're gone! They took Sledhob's body and left in the ship!" He hoisted Lard Nar up as he woozily tried to wipe a string of blood tinged saliva from his chin and practically fell into his brother's arms. "We can't stay here! We need to move!"

Purple thought quickly, vaulting over bodies and terrorizing screams as he dove for an abandoned pistol. Red was right, they couldn't stay here any longer without risking getting cornered in the building with the whole city trying to obliterate them. He felt another surge of powerful, bottomless instinct to protect his mate and friend overtake his agonizing fear, striding forward and slinging Lard Nar's unsettled, aching form over his shoulders and taking Red by the wrist and wading through the never ending onslaught of irate, vicious citizens coming at them with iron bars and wild PAK legs over extended and thirsty for IRM blood. He skidded around a group of widowed women and knocked them brazenly to the side as he tugged his husband along out into the open of the pale daylight, immediately pushing him up against the wall of the tower when someone opened fire from a nearby rooftop. He forced Red along behind him as they struggled to sprint down the boulevard, looking for any way to get off planet and back out into the welcoming cosmos teasing them from above.

"Wow, you guys make a cute couple, huh?" Someone shouted from behind, as Purple spun and shielded his partner with his body, immediately going on the sadistic, ferocious defensive and throwing Lard Nar into Red's arms to wildly toss both of his hands up onto the grip of his pistol when he was met with an overwhelming group of former navigators itching to sink their teeth into his flesh.

"Stay back! I-I'm taking my family and we're gonna leave for good!" He barked, swallowing down his terror when he felt Red's radiating body heat close from behind. "Let us leave and we'll never come back to bother you again!"

"Do you know who we are, _my Tallest_?" The word was thrown out as a growl dripping with pure hatred, a tall, ruby-eyed communications specialist striding forward to take the pinnacle of his thirty-something Irken gang. He straightened his tattered uniform to the best of his ability before glaring up darkly at his former leader. "I tried to tell you to stay away from the deadly radiation pouring off of the Florpus, but you decided it would be better to continue on through it and get us all killed."

Purple blinked. Great…._this_ guy? Why now?! Did the Universe truly hate them that much?!

"Look, I'm sorry about that, alright?! I know I didn't listen!" He stuttered, taking a deep breath and reeling his wavering composure back in when he threatened to give. "My husband and I have changed a lot in the past cycle since that happened and I just wanna leave. That's all I want."

The officer continued to stare up at him from below, the beginning tips of razor sharp PAK legs peaking from over his battered shoulders as he took another tiny, menacing step forward. "I'm afraid you can't do that. Each and every one of us here lost something because of the stupidity of you two. I had to bite my tongue and take it all because you didn't have the sense to save your own people from annihilation! We've learned how to fend for ourselves because of Pem! Pem lives!" He threw a harsh, rebellious fist in the air and the crowd went wild behind him at the sound of their greatest enemy's name ringing clear through the boulevard, Purple scrambling in his mounting distress to find something to get them off-planet before things got too dastardly heated.

He froze, spotting a downed Spittle Runner out of the corner of his eye and quickly, but inconspicuously, scrutinizing the rusted outer framework of the hull as the communications officer took another step forward and threatened to zap through his vital organs with heating PAK legs and nastily bared teeth. It looked fairly intact, over what he could tell from across the disgusting street. He reached back and winced when the officer drew his weapons completely, savoring the fear lacing his former dictator's eyes, feeling for Red and brushing his fingertips the length of his stomach to get his attention.

"Red?" He breathed, not once breaking horrendous, sizzling eye contact with the being who thought he could overcome someone so drained and on the psychological edge. "Under the dash, pop the casing. I need you to take the blue wire and connect it to the green wire. Lard Nar knows what to do."

Red swallowed in confusion, going to say something in desperate protest before Purple turned on a dime and thrust his pistol into his hands as he shoved him hard towards the ship, sweeping back in one fluid motion and throwing himself into the anarchy that ensued as what was left of their spent, former navigation team charged on vehement, merciless impulse. Purple capitalized on the strange, adrenaline-fueled strength pumping through his body when his mind tried to shield his delicate consciousness from the feeling of snapping fingers and screams of agony ensuing violently beneath his hands, throwing out his PAK legs and aiming for anything that relatively moved as swarms of flailing, ungloved claws raked over his cheeks and snapped free between his teeth. He caught sight of his husband kicking in the door to the Spittle Runner with the help of Lard Nar, hoisting his tiny body into the cockpit and hissing through the sheer amount of force needed to pry open the internal casing to the ship's brain. They had to hotwire it and get them out of this awful, dangerous place that was no longer their home, Purple shielding Red from harm as he struggled through his minor knowledge of mechanics to help his Vortian brother strip thin wires of their protective plastic coting with his teeth.

Purple kept on, catching sight of a piece of jagged, shattered glass at his feet and diving just in time to snatch it and carefully dodge a swift, throbbing kick to the stomach from a furious pilot with one curled antennae and a heavy gush of cloying blood leaking down into her vision from where the other had been yanked hardheartedly from her frame.

"They're hotwiring the Runner! Don't let them leave the planet!"

Purple perked up at the fervent, terrifying screech, training his searing PAK lasers towards a brave group that broke off and unleashing a torrent of devastating, organ-popping carnage that blasted PAKs from unsuspecting bodies and tore thin, wiry limbs from shoulder sockets. He couldn't let anyone get to Red. _Wouldn't_ let anyone get to him. He shouted when someone shredded down the side of his flannel with the thin blade of a boot knife, spinning on impulse and blindly smashing down the thin chunk of harsh glass digging into his soft palm mercilessly though the uniform of the communications officer who had the wild audacity to challenge him, feeling his flesh give way and cave under the force of his blow as he stumbled backwards and fell to all fours on the sidewalk to cough up thick globs of nauseating, bright pink blood. He struggled to reach up and flail for the intrusive object lodged deep in his chest cavity, heaving violently as the rest of his makeshift gang panicked in sheer terror and took off in a bloody, gruesome mess down the adjacent alleyway to preserve their rapidly diminishing lives as Purple stared them down and growled maliciously like an visceral leviathan ready to pounce. The officer gave another feeble lurch and collapsed to his quivering stomach, unmoving as the remaining spark of life flooded away from his once vivid eyes in sticky pools against the frigid metal of the thoroughfare.

Purple stood dumbfounded and dazed for a few long seconds, trying frantically to shake off the muffled, sedative-induced rage swelling through his PAK as he began to come to through the horrific, one-Irken massacre he had unleashed like a miniature, ghastly armageddon upon their former crew. The sound of weak thrusters echoed in the background as he stumbled on shaky feet, wiping his trembling fingers on the front of his destroyed shirt as his breathing slowed to dangerous levels and Red called out to him from a distance. Powerful hands landed on him from behind, whisking him away from the gargantuan pool of slipping organs and dead, glassy eyes and halfway tugging him across the street to chuck him into the waiting cab of the now revived Spittle Runner.

Lard Nar took the pilot's seat as Red struggled to hoist his stunned, catatonic husband into the back seat and set him upright as he grappled with the sheer horror of what he had done, ushering the tiny hatch to close before flipping the ignition and feeling the unstable, outdated landing gear ascend into the belly of the tiny ship from below before working to warm the stagnant, flooded thrusters from outside.

"Pur?" Red snapped a few times in front of his face, grabbing him by the jaw and turning his glazed, unoccupied expression back when he tried to look away. "Purple? It's over. Hey, look at me."

The ship lurched and jerked sharply as Lard Nar wrapped his experienced fingers around the clutch and hoisted them from the surface, gritting his long, serrated teeth as they took heavy fire from below and guiding them erratically up into the stratosphere as the tired ship threatened to disassemble back down to the terrifying surface and pit them all against their eventual doom. He banged harshly on the radar, grinning to himself when the computer hummed awake and the pale magenta lights of the cockpit sputtered to some semblance of flickering consciousness, kicking off the autopilot and forcing them up into the friction laden atmosphere of the planet and out into the stars. Swirling streaks of neon color pounded and danced wildly past the windshield when Lard Nar punched in a warp code, reaching for the staticky communicator and flipping it on to scan through hundreds of deceased channels whining annoyingly through the silence.

Red slumped back in exhausted, forlorn relief as the deep blue surface of Irk grew smaller and fainter in their rapidly zooming view, giving him the last clear, beautiful look of his birth planet for the rest of his prolonged, dilapidated life. He, Purple, Teem, Kez, and everyone registered to the IRM could never come back here…they were officially exiled. Red felt disgusting and horrendously hollow, slinging a shaky, unstable arm around his partner's still waist and drawing him in as they craned up together to watch the tiny, cerulean speck fade out to a feeble shimmer through the overpowering darkness flooding around them. Everything they loved, the culture that they had once known so dearly and held so close to their nationalistic hearts had labeled them as inirken.

They were nothing…nobodies…homeless freaks without purpose or sense of direction.

Purple was the first to heartbreakingly cry, coming around through his distant dissociation and scrunching up his face in gut-wrenching agony when Irk vanished from their tear-filled sights forever before folding into Red's shoulder and smearing blood up over his chest as he wept silently for the unbearable pain of no longer being considered a whole Irken. Red couldn't help himself, tugging his hysterical mate up onto his lap to wrap him in a formidable, spine crushing embrace and bury his salty face into the crook of his gory neck as he sobbed audibly for them all to dishearteningly drown in. Lard Nar said nothing for a long time, setting the jump codes for an unknown location before letting the ship's silent computer take over completely, wiping his still oozing mouth on the back of his hand before climbing sluggishly over the center console to position himself next to his inconsolable, devastated family. Their collective anguish was excruciating, radiating out in smothering waves of pure, mind-breaking torment and forcing Lard Nar to bring his hands together in his lap and toy with the destroyed socket of his missing finger as his two best friends rocked together and tried to come to terms with the terrible fact that they were displaced and destitute.

"W-Where…where do we go now?" Purple whimpered against Red's cheek, choking on another body-wracking sob as he tried to swallow down his mind-numbing grief to no avail. "I-I'm so sorry, Red! I-I feel like it's all my fault!" He dug his claws into his partner's shirt as another violent wave of terror took him. "I-I ruin everything I touch!"

Red pulled back with a sniff, searching his partner's face as Lard Nar moved in to brush lovingly at his side. "What are you talking about? You didn't do any-"

"Y-Yes I did!" Purple wailed, coming completely unglued as fat tears stained his blood-soaked cheeks. "I-If I hadn't have asked you to go on vacation with me to Irk all those months ago after the Florpus w-we wouldn't be in this mess! You would still be Tallest and be happy on the Massive and T-Teem wouldn't be blind and S-Sledhob wouldn't be…wouldn't be dead!" He paused to take a hysterical shuddering breath, wiping frenetically at his flushed face with unsteady hands. "We would still have a home but I ruined everything! I-I should have never told you I loved you! I-I destroyed your life!"

Red snatched his shivering wrists away from his face. "Stop talking like that!" He snapped, biting back his own sorrow to deal with the distraught mental breakdown his overly emotional partner was suddenly thrown into. "You're literally ripping yourself apart for nothing! Pem would have found us no matter what, Purple, so shut up with all of this stupid self-loathing!" He leaned in and grazed his long antennae over his husband's, feeling his trembling stalks calm to a slow, tentative quiver when a flood of gorgeous, ethereal information passed between their eternally connected minds to show off the glorious, feathery feeling of pure love Red wanted him to see.

Memories poured through them both in tandem, thumping through exhausted veins and cleansing their blood of every painful, horrific sickness their society had rained down on them for the whole of their lives. Purple leaned into the touch, wrapping his protective, all-encompassing hold back up over Red's trembling shoulder blades as ghostly images played on beautiful, magnificent loops behind his ocular lenses in rapid succession. Every boisterous laugh they shared on the bridge of the Massive, the chilly hike of their impromptu vacation through the trees, their close, tender first time together in Naphrus 8. Purple witnessed the stunning bloom of Red's slow, toilsome understanding of his deepest emotions and desires, his realization that he was worth it beyond the use of drugs and alcohol, and the stunning, heartwarming proposal and marriage they had performed together in the Spike of Judgment. Sure, they were no longer Tallest, but that wasn't a bad thing anymore. They were free to be whoever they wanted and go wherever they pleased without the wills of a dictatorial, unaccepting civilization constantly trying to force them into a stifling box. Sure, they didn't have a home, but here, against his husband's chest with his best friend at his side…this _was_ home. Purple no longer had to be terrified about others judging his relationship on the basis of sex and gender, no longer had to worry about others being racist towards Lard Nar, and wouldn't have to protect Teem and Kez from judgmental onlookers.

They were poor.

They were frightened.

But…they were _happy_.

"Get it now, dumbass? Who needs Irk anyway?" Red chuckled through his tears, pulling back his long, soft antennae when Purple ran his hands up behind his neck to pull him into a profound, smoothly tender kiss and finally shatter the last traces of loyalty to a people who had never loved them from his mind.

Red grinned when he felt his husband sniff and smile weakly against his warm lips, continuously crying not because they were stateless, but because they still had each other. That was it. After all this time, Purple finally understood what he needed most and severed every tie to the homophobic, materialistic, xenophobic Empire slandering and threatening him with death over who he loved. Irk was never his home and it never would be.

He nodded with a breathless, shaky giggle as Red fumbled to switch their positions in an inebriated, jittery fugue, scooping Purple up by the thighs and pushing him back into the smoke riddled leather of the cockpit as the ship carried them on to who knows where.

"We can get married now." He laughed between nervous, sorrow tinged kisses as he fought off the depression peaking in the fringes of his already unsteady emotions. "We can find our own planet…build a house…maybe try to grow some stuff."

Purple let his raw eyes flutter back open to meet his partner's. "Or steal it." He suggested wryly with an immature beam. "We could be career criminals."

"No." Lard Nar spoke up, averting his gaze to the rapidly escalating affections ensuing beside him and struggling to hoist himself up over the console to take the pilot's seat as his friends ran their hands shakily over one another. "I'm taking you home with me. I'm not letting my family run rampant in the streets."

Red pulled back, struggling against Purple's firm grip when he threatened to pull him back down into another hot, bruising kiss, instead resorting to meeting him halfway and smearing his lips over his cheek. "With you? What do you mean?" He asked, finally pushing his giddy, terrified mate gently back and perking up to the curious statement. "Hang on, where _are_ we going?"

"Well, first I'm going to call our sisters on Inquisitoria and tell them to get in Kez's stinger to meet us there." Lard Nar explained leisurely, kicking his feet up on the dash as he watched the strobing hues racing past outside with keen interest. "You can't go back to Inquisitoria after the death of….of our friend. It won't be safe for you to live amongst their society anymore. I, on the other hand, am guaranteed an alliance with the Federation because of my…eh…my new status."

Red took a deep breath and rolled his eyes when Purple slung himself forward and purred into his hold, searching for any form of comforting physical contact he could possibly drink in as an anchor against his mind-numbing panic. "You didn't answer my question." He mumbled, sighing affectionately into the feeling of soiled hands trailing up his clothed spine to trace at his PAK seam. "If we're not going to Inquisitoria, where are you taking us?"

Lard Nar glanced over the plush armrest, sneering teasingly at where Red remained trapped firmly in his husband's iron grip before flashing him an anxiously excited, equally unnerved, smile.

"Vort. We're going home…together."

* * *

**One full cycle into the future;**

A long, shaky cycle had passed since the devastation of the war rampaged terribly over the Irken star system, leaving the entire sector of the cosmos without any sense of direct aid or leadership. Irk had plunged itself into a seemingly eternal darkness, fighting valiantly but losing to their former colossus of a dictatorial empire and quickly becoming a fractured set of ruined puppet states to be shared amongst Plookesia, Boodie Nen, and Hypatia 3. The Irken race themselves had willingly submitted to their dominant, merciless captivity rather than starve to death under the faulty, horrendous leadership instilled upon them by a greedy Elite general after the mass murder of the Veloria Aristocracy. Trade with Irk had closed completely and the Vortian generator was forcibly removed from the planet to be gifted to the new, formidable King presiding over the ravaged, crumbling visage of Vortian power like a much needed, white light of soothing rapture.

King Lard Nar I had returned to his planet with his two Irken blood brothers and two sisters, setting foot like a true prophet on the dusty soil as Inquisitorians and Vortians alike bowed to his kind, empathetic presence and looked upon him with favorable judgement. He was ushered on to the city of Hatalca where he stepped through the ruins of the ancient, cosmic castle of Vortian monarchies long since passed to swear his holy oath to his people and dedicate his long, compassionate life fully over to the Empire until his last breath exited his tiny body. He had been incredibly wary of his abilities as king, looking out over the sea of infinite, gauntly emaciated faces standing in the rubble of their once profoundly intelligent culture as he was shrouded in an affluent, well-hidden Vortian silk touched only by those in the royal line before him and held in the feelers of Sledhob's wife Sariah as she personally ventured to his domain and deemed him as the universe given savior of the planet at her dead husband's will.

His first order of business had been to personally appoint a cabinet of advisors to help him deal with the extensive, mind-numbingly expensive damage and lack of food supply his starving, pitiful people were faced with. Because of the death of Ab Sledhob, Prime Minister Sariah could not legally restore citizenship to Red and his family, reluctantly understanding that her husband had given his life to further theirs and forgiving them for their crimes against her esteemed Federation. In light of such damming news, Lard Nar granted the four indefinite, legal citizenship of Vort in exchange for political help that they all diplomatically offered in return. Red was given control of reorganizing a military and running supplies collected from other planets formerly dominated by Irken control to rural areas via Inquisitorian Stinger, Purple was instructed to draft welfare and housing plans for the millions displaced in the original Irken-Vortian conflict, Teem was to organize a women's specific relief program for those remaining without husbands and wives to adequately care for them, and Kez was appointed as Lard Nar's personal secretary to fervently take note of everything he planned or vehemently said.

Together, in the span of a full cycle and with help from Inquisitoria and hundreds of other allies ready and eager to work with King Lard Nar for outstanding peace in their quadrant of the cosmos, they had successfully, and a bit unstably at first, rebuilt several key cities on the planet and set up free shelters along the globe to feed the rapidly escalating strength of the pummeled public. Red had to retrain himself on how to be cordial with small children, bussing families without access to transportation across entire expansive regions of slowly re-growing wilderness and becoming quite popular with young Vortians for his demeanor and fascinating skills as a pilot. He had talked about returning to his job as a fleet commander once the planet was well enough to support a standing, formidable military, and wanted nothing more than to have his hands darting over glowing switches and thrusters in a cockpit. Purple had received a tiny bit of funding from Prime Minister Sariah upon finding her husband's will and seeing how favorably Sledhob had viewed him in life, using the money to build a petite, somewhat run down, work in progress of a home for him, Red, Lard Nar, Teem and Kez on the edge of the soft, deep black Vortian forest directly outside of Hatalca. It wasn't much and definitely wasn't comfortable or cozy in the slightest, Purple running a day job as a grease covered mechanic to fix downed Vortian ships of all sizes while he worked tirelessly on welfare proposals that Lard Nar routinely signed off on and immediately set into action. Teem had grown to be excruciatingly fantastic and finding her way around without sight, finally receiving stolen, illegal parts for her PAK systems after the fall of Irk and the raid of abandoned Irken outposts. She was able to move on her own without life support, her steely hearing and impeccable sense of smell allowing her to glide seamlessly through her world as she instructed Vortian women on self defense and basic rights they were all endowed with in attempts to restore the faith and morale of their society after their weighty prison sentences and torture. Kez had grown to rarely be seen beyond Lard Nar's side, scribbling away as he met with foreign political advisors like he had done as head of the Resisty and striking meager trade deals with other exotic Empires he had never even heard of in exchange for political, financial, and military support. She had also taken up as head of his tiny, underprepared intelligence sector, instructing various citizens on how to properly utilize outmoded communications headsets to fervently spy on closely neighboring races to ensure no attacks were imminent in Vort's weakened, economically harrowing state. A massive, well protected printing press was established in Hatalca as well as several other social jobs, circulating paper money and coins back out into the world at a tiny, steady trickle as the economy slowly hummed awake and shook away the icy fringes of its long, fractious slumber.

Together, under the rule of King Lard Nar, Inquisitorian technology had helped to restore some semblance of a breathable atmosphere to the landscape, allowing for wildlife hidden deep in the planet's crust in dark, moist caves to resurface and sniff about through incredibly young saplings of virgin forest plumes erupting through the soil at an alarming rate over the entire surface of the warming, stabilizing world. Scanty, risible housing was built and whole communities were formed, relying on food to be flown in by Red's team and to be paid for by Purple's social programs and fair taxes. Social law had been reestablished and Lard Nar had eventually amassed enough money to put back towards reigniting long since dead scientific programs at the heart of the kingdom and provide eager, enthusiastic teams with stolen Irken equipment and schematics pilfered by pirating squads sent to planet Dirt and what was left of Irk.

Psychologists were brought in from Inquisitoria and Plookesia to work on the family of five after the terroristic, horrendously mind-altering warfare and bloodshed they had been subjected to and work through past traumas lingering just beneath the skin. Eventually, Red and Purple were able to move on from their bitter exile to learn how to appreciate one another fully for who they were instead of dwelling on the past. Racism in Vort was also addressed, Lard Nar fervently adamant with old school extremists and fanatical bombers dotting the planet and causing disgusted trouble over his choice of blood family that they were here to stay and had helped to save Vort from extinction all together. Most of the public understood his interesting, somewhat bizarre, choices and looked upon the four Irken advisors with pride and unrelenting respect, welcoming them with open arms into their culture for assimilation as a thank you for helping their rapidly diminishing people stay afloat and revive themselves.

Everything was right in the world once more, and with Lard Nar gone for a few days to talk privately with a team of engineers about an exciting, secretive project he wanted to propose, Red and Purple had decided to finally plan their official, gorgeous wedding ceremony and had started looking into where they wanted to venture on their honeymoon.

Red smoothed up over his antennae with a soft smile and stepped out onto the stony cobbles of the tiny community square that had built up in the past several months around their home in Hatalca, feeling the soles of his well-polished dress shoes hit the smooth path before shutting and locking the door behind him. He reached out, letting his smile fade when he realized it was grey and drizzling, sighing to himself with a shrug and brushing tiny rivulets of liquid from the firm shoulder pads of his dress jacket and trying with all his might to shroud the black, electric box underneath his arm from the dastardly effects of the rain he was still getting used to. The smell of warm, gooey pastries hung in the chilly autumn air as he took off on his leisure walk, nodding on to elderly Vortian men and women who smiled up at him and commented behind prescription goggles that he was dressed much sharper than usual. He chatted unhurriedly with a few shop owners slinging their arms in boredom out of their petite food stands, helping himself to a few sugary muffins before leaving a generous tip on the counter and scooping up his mysterious box to be on his way with a grin.

Everywhere he went through the wet streets of Hatalca, citizens of all ages greeted him and commented on his fancy, crisp jacket or teased him affectionately for the blinding, predictable shade of crimson he had decided to go with. Everyone wanted to know what the elusive pilot was up to so late in the afternoon, trying to pressure him into speaking with the promise of delicious, mouthwatering baked goods or a free extra shoe shine he had opted for but sill kept his mouth firmly shut. Children played and bustled about with makeshift, homemade toys, spinning strange tops on street corners under flopping horns and giggling in the heavily accented Vortian language Red was still struggling to learn despite the extensive lessons Lard Nar had decided to give them all. Still he kept on, meandering around new construction sites stinking of fresh tar and admiring the extensive cleanup of gargantuan, incredibly old skyscrapers fallen against the horizon from the ferocious war with Miyuki.

"Commander! Good to see you!" A little shopkeep with tiny round horns and nervous hands shouted up at him with impeccable Irken, the language Red had told himself hundreds of times he needed to forget but was still reminded of on the daily. "Haven't seen that husband of yours around today. Is he going to come by for his daily pint of fresh icecream?"

Red readjusted his grip on the heavy, chilly black box and thought a moment. "He eats a whole pint every day? Huh. I'm not surprised." No wonder Purple had complained about gaining a tiny bit of weight, not that Red minded in the slightest. It just meant he had more to hold at night. "What kind does he usually get?"

The shopkeep beamed back, grinning up with yellowed teeth and waving Red forward to follow him into his well-kept, thoroughly dusted establishment on the corner as Inquisitorian Stingers zipped by outside and a gaggle of happily chatting women crossed the street. He hopped excitedly behind the short counter as Red ducked through the tiny doorway, digging through an impromptu cooler where he kept his carefully chilled pints of homemade icecream from his personal farm.

"The wife makes it all; she's got that magic touch for sweetness. I just sell it to Purple when he comes by. He's been talking about you two having an actual wedding ceremony lately and I'd love to cater if you'd be interested since he loves this stuff so much!" He straightened back up, popping his spine with a short groan before passing Red a frozen pint of delectable chocolate goodness and a wooden spoon. "Be sure to bring that spoon back. We've only got a limited supply and we have to wash them for the other customers. That'll be 3.50 please!"

Red struggled to balance everything in one hand, digging into his deep, now rain slicked pockets with the other and trying to come up with exact change before stooping precariously down to the counter as the shopkeep snatched his hard-earned wages from his fingertips.

"Thanks. I'll tell him to bring the spoon by tomorrow. And I'll talk to Pur about the catering. We've already hired Kez to bake our cake, but I'm pretty sure he would still want you there."

"Thank you kindly, Commander! Have a wonderful day!"

"Dit stalc. (You too.)"

Red hurried along, rounding blocks and carefully passing over slick crosswalks, hoping he wouldn't run into any more familiar faces wanting to stop and idly chat with him in paling light of the sunset. Finally, he felt his nerves peak as he eyed a grungy, oil-reeking mechanic's shop from afar, taking a deep breath and walking the short distance to the petroleum covered, rusted out front door. He wavered for a few anxious moments, listening to the powerful swells of raunchy, antennae-piercing music thrumming violently from within as heavy tools and clinking wrenches clattered to the ground followed by hot, irritated curses.

"Dammit!"

Red let his tentative, apprehensive smile return as he pushed through the familiar doorway and stepped inside, immediately dodging a heavy drill chucked heatedly across the repair bay with a yelp of surprise, nearly dropping everything clutched precariously in his already shaking hold.

"What the hell, Pur?! You could have killed me!" He shouted irately back with a huff of irritation. "What's wrong with you?"

"Oh, geez, honey! Sorry!" Purple popped up in surprise from around the hazardously open hull of a disgusting, pitted Vortian runner, wiping his grimy hands down the front of his perpetually stained slacks before throwing off his gloves and tugging his goggles away from his blackened face. "I thought you were the assistant."

Red couldn't contain a laugh, letting it slip past his teeth when Purple froze in place with a wide-eyed gawk when he realized what his husband was wearing. "You throw power drills at Len Tarf? No wonder he keeps threatening to quit." He mused, blinking when Purple let his stunned amethyst gaze trail from Red's glossy boots up to the well-ironed hem of his crisp jacket. "You…um…you gonna say something?"

"Why are you dressed so…so…" Purple waved a hand, gesturing wildly at the impressive display Red had put on for him as he stepped around standing puddles of coolant and reeking substances he couldn't identify to cross to Purple's personal workbench. "Just…what's the occasion? Did I forget something?" He began to panic, running over their anniversary date in his mind and coming up short for what he could have possibly missed in the confusion.

Red bit his lip, brandishing the pint of condensing icecream and watching in amusement when his partner's bewildered stare lit up as he hastily pulled off his jacket and followed like a moth to a flame to snatch at the chilly plastic container and immediately fumbling to pry it open like a rabid beast. Red passed him the hand carved spoon, watching in utter delight as his childish other half licked the acidic oil from his lips before digging into his makeshift meal and totally drowning in the silky, impeccable taste.

"You have to bring the spoon back tomorrow. Torc's words, not mine." Red chuckled, reaching out and setting up his strange box on the edge of Purple's spotless desk.

Purple craned forward on his toes, wanting to throw his arms around his partner but not wanting to destroy his beautiful suit with his grime covered, absolutely revolting uniform. "Thanks. I've been too busy with this job to get out there and get any today." He tried to look over Red's shoulder as he popped the protective casing on the massive object, nearly choking on a spoonful of incredibly scrumptious sugar when he realized what it was. "Red…how….where…?"

"I had Lard Nar's salvage team go find it for me when they were back on Ir-…eh…where we used to live." He swallowed at the name, reeling himself back in from the monumental sorrow it brought. He stepped to the side, gesturing proudly to the dusty, incredibly old musical machine he and Purple had danced to over two cycles ago in the chilly forests of Naphrus.

"I-It's the…man what was it called?" Purple squinted down to the name on the side of the device as Red brought the thin needle to the golden disk and searched along the miniscule grooves for his favorite classical music piece. "The Voyager! Yeah, that weird Earth thing!" He paused, chewing lightly on his spoon when Red finally found the hauntingly beautiful music, urging Purple to turn off his punk rock and listen to the calming genius of the lilting stanzas and bouncing staccato.

Purple played along, narrowing his eyes suspiciously and kicking his radio transmitter off with the toe of his heavy work boot from where it rested on the ground, eyeing Red closely as he shifted uncomfortably on his feet. "Why'd you go through all the trouble to find something like that?" Purple was incredibly impressed by his husband's resourcefulness, feeling his breath hitch when Red crossed the room through the music and reached out for his hand. "Red, no, I'm gross! I don't wanna ruin your suit!"

Red didn't listen, taking his partner's long fingers in his and drawing him forward before kicking aside a few loose wires and heavy power tools to give their steady, trancelike gait more room to tenderly sway. He pulled Purple in close, laughing when he tried to shy away and flinch dangerously into the thick globs of gooey petroleum leaking from his front to stain Red's once impeccable chest, stopping his sudden angry protest with a warm, slow kiss to his lips before taking his icecream in his fingers and gingerly setting it atop the engine of the half gutted ship. Purple folded into the incredible, warming touch, feeling his partner's hand guide his softly to his shoulders before sliding back down through his filth to his thin waist to shepherd him on through the ethereal, featherlight music he was sure he would never hear again for as long as he lived. It was surreal, unexpected, and unfathomably romantic, Red pulling back when Purple leaned in to brush his eager antennae lightly over his cheek and rest his soiled chin against his shoulder with a long sigh, feeling every ache and dull pain from his hard day's work flood away from his soot covered body to be replaced with the gorgeous, yawning cavern of boundless affection Red seemed to bring to the shop on a daily basis, giggling when he smeared his mouth through the buildup of coolant on his cheek and pulled back to wipe his face in disgust on the back of his hand.

"I told you I was gross." Purple mocked with a flushed grin, closing his eyes to the ghostly instruments penetrating his weary mind and singing him back to life in the hold of his fantastically perfect partner. "Why'd you do this?" He breathed against his husband's lips, capturing him again as they twirled through the paling light of the gorgeous, rainy Vortian afternoon and shivered into each other's hold. "If you wanted to do it tonight you don't have to bribe me. All you have to do is ask."

Red felt his egotistical fervor pop at the sudden, risqué suggestion, imagining Purple stepping out of a hot bromine bath with fresh, unsoiled skin and crawling into their thin, arid sheets to set Red's body alight with a powerful, but infinitely gentle, touch he had been craving for over a week. He wanted that…he wanted that more than anything at the moment and knew they could be as loud as they wanted with their other three roommates away for few hours. Huh…if they hurried they could rush back now and still have time before Teem and Kez returned from their cheap dinner date and…

No.

First he wanted to court Purple, to show him without a shadow of a doubt that he was loved and coveted above all others and desired even in the filthy pools of stagnant oil and loose screws they were waltzing through. He wanted his mate to feel cozy, to feel utterly delectable and hunted like sickly sweet prey.

Red cleared his throat, dizzy from the invasion of light kisses and short, hot breaths brushed over his color stained cheeks to entice him into delicious oblivion, reminding himself to stay on track with the true purpose of his well-prepared, overly manicured ploy. "The last time we danced to this song, I pushed you away because I thought you were weird." He chuckled when Purple rolled his eyes but kept up his seductive front, moving his hands down over Red's sleeves to feel him through the stiff fabric. "At that time, I never thought we would be married. I had never even considered you anything than a friend to me, but now, almost two cycles later, you're all that and more, Pur. You're my idiot best friend, my annoying conscious, and my beautiful husband and I don't want to ever think of my life without you in it."

Purple pulled away long enough to meet Red's overly serious, incredibly focused gaze, laughing brightly when he still managed to elaborately spin him out for an overdone flourish of a twirl before taking him back by the waist and dipping him with more precision he had been expecting. "And I told you back then that you still sucked at dancing, but this is more like it." He teased lovingly, trying to play-fight off the onslaught of messy, untamed kisses that followed with a boisterous giggle that amalgamated into an embarrassing snort when he found himself stuck completely in Red's firm hold. "Red, stop! This is nice but I really need to get back to work! My client will be here in the morning for his ship!"

"That's more than enough time and you know it. You're the boss here, so you get to say when you work and when you don't." Red hoisted him up by the waist and carried him to the bench as Purple falsely struggled and toyed with his antennae between the tips of his fingers. "I wanted us to have a moment for just us and I know you love this suit. So, stop working for a bit and have some fun."

"Geez, we have a moment everyday thanks to you. And we're getting ready to have many more in a week." Purple allowed himself to be lowered down, beaming enthusiastically when Red returned his buzzing excitement. "Kez helped me pick out my suit yesterday and you're gonna love it."

"One week until you're mine forever." Red purred back, following his mate down when he leaned back against the cold metal of the rusted out wall and let Purple's curious, gentle hands wander back up over his shoulders and tug teasingly at stifling fabric he wanted to peel away like he was opening a present.

Purple slipped his fingers down under Red's lapel, feeling for his massive shoulder scar through his stark white undershirt and sighing readily when he felt his partner gently take him by the chin, tilting him with slow dominance to the side before grazing his broken smile along the sensitive nape of his neck and forcing a breathless moan to bubble up in the back of his throat when he bit down ever so slightly over his throbbing jugular.

"I'm already yours forever…if you wanna do this now at least let me lock the door first." Purple whined impatiently into the searing, mind-blowing sensation as Red strengthened his hold and forced him forward against his hips to help him wrap his legs suggestively around his waist. "I don't want any clients coming in and….oh shit….a-and catching us like this."

Red reluctantly moved away, holding his partner's eye contact with a blistering stare of his own as he trudged slowly backwards, fumbling for the handle of the door and leisurely snapping the lock before stalking back forward with intense, burning interest when Purple had set to work unbuttoning his long, horrendously soiled work shirt. "So does that mean you're gonna take a break with me?" He pulled off his own jacket and tossed it carelessly to the side when his husband hungrily beckoned him back over with the flick of his wrist, laying back across the smooth metal of his desk when Red went to draw the blinds.

"Maybe. But you can't tell anyone. I mean it, Red. Business is finally picking up for me and I don't wanna ruin it with something like this." Purple breathed, watching with voracious, mounting desire as his coy lover blocked their scrumptious, utterly delectable game from the prying view of passersby outside and set to work on his own suffocating shirt. "Even after a whole cycle I still can't believe you're mine."

Red finally worked himself free, striding with cruel leisure back to where Purple squirmed delicately against the cold steel and feeling his pulse spike when his lover ran a firm, calloused hand up his bare stomach to trace the massive scar plastered over his ribcage. Purple hummed his praise, taking his partner by the wrist and tugging lightly, silently begging him through the familiar, beautiful heat creeping up through his core and fanning out over his fingers and toes.

"I'm ready to marry you again." He giggled, licking his lips and holding his breath in shaky anticipation when Red leaned back down through the darkness and stopped short a few inches from his partner's eager mouth to admire the otherworldly, starved look wavering behind his ocular lenses and making him weak in the knees. "I love you."

They had come so far…battled demons and maniacal terrorists, fought against the system trying to keep them apart and force them to comply with wishes they could never fulfill, and found a new home that accepted them for who they were regardless of their past or their relationship. To the city of Hatalca, they were advisors to the King, a pilot and a mechanic, Red and Purple. They were the lanky, tall husbands who frequented the tiny pastry stand a few blocks from their freshly painted shack of a home, the inspiring war heroes who had overcome adversity, and the sweet boys that had an unbearable addiction to honied food and homemade icecream. And, finally, they were to have an official wedding presided over by their good friend Lard Nar who had restored their lives to some semblance of normalcy through the horrendous terrors floating behind their eyelids when they slept at night.

"I love you too." Red whispered back with a tender smile, chuckling into Purple's eager hold as he forced him back against his skin through the serene darkness to move slowly against his familiar, comforting lips and forget everything but the feeling of being so intimately close.

Together…they were meant to be together.

* * *

**Somewhere outside of the city of Hatalca, three miles into the Vortian crust;**

Lard Nar stared down at the complicated, incredibly expensive schematics laid expertly before him as his experienced eyes darted over equations and sharply drawn angles. He swallowed in deep contemplation, glancing back up to the diminutive team of powerful engineers and scientists he had hand selected for his classified project, scanning each of their faces before returning to the Irken-made plans that had been stolen from an abandoned Smeetery deep in the surface of Irk's now cannon pummeled cities. He had commissioned these very designs to be found as soon as his planet was restored to some semblance of natural health, sending out secret teams of salvagers to dig their way into Smeetery after Smeetery to find the technology he still didn't understand but wanted to with every fiber of his body. He needed it, craved it, desired it more than anything he could ever have thrust into his waiting, benevolent hands.

Now…their search was over.

He opened his mouth to speak, unnerved by the eager anticipation of his team leaning forward on their toes to fervently listen to anything their King had to say. "I…hm." He wasn't sure how to begin, still extraordinarily uncomfortable with his new status and trying to remain poised and formal in the presence of those around him. "You all understand that this information is never to leave this lab. This is classified work that I want no one else on the surface knowing about." He reminded gently, running a two-fingered hand over the crinkling tracing paper of the machine that would retrofit his now opulent life.

"Yes, sir." The room chimed in unison, nodding devotedly and shoving hands in coat pockets to wait for further questioning.

Lard Nar took a deep breath, reaching into his deep green, fur trimmed cloak and retrieving a primitive cloth bag he still continued to carry to this day before tugging it gently open with his fingers and working out a meticulously folded paper covered in now disgustingly stale, crusty blood. "Are we positive that this device will be able to work with DNA over a cycle old?" He asked nervously, clutching the waxy crayon drawing like a lifeline and waiting anxiously for a response.

"With the current information that we hold, my King," a tiny scientist rang out from within the gargantuan lab coat swallowing her whole, "it is theoretically possible to inject DNA into a cluster of host cells within this smeet device to adequately piece together a clone of a deceased adult body."

Lard Nar lit up, letting his gaze trail back to the dark blue stains under his palms as happy, elated tears welled up behind his goggles. He choked on an ecstatic sob at the thought of smooth mauve skin finally being back under his touch and having a, hopefully, blank slate to work with this time. "I-I will ask again…are we _sure_? I can't get his blood anymore. His body was burned and buried in the cemetery within the city garden." He warned, meeting the gaze of the petite scientist and desperate for her to once again confirm his dreams of reanimation, sighing in overpowering relief when she nodded in uncomfortable compliance.

"Like I said, sir, it is technically possible, but we won't know how long it will take to grow organic material to that size and we're still working on age acceleration. We also don't know what possible side effects could take place within his body during rapid growth. He could turn out to be deaf, blind, or even-"

"How long will it take to build it?" Lard Nar breathed, growing jittery from the sheer excitement of playing god in the once physical, limited world he had been forced to live in. No more…there would be no more regulation and he would take what he wanted for once in his destitute, disappointing life.

"If we work from sunrise to set…a week, sir."

Lard Nar gave a victory shout, startling his already wary team and causing them to jump where they stood. "This is incredible news!" He yelled eagerly, lovingly folding the paper holding his future partner's precious, liquid gold of DNA and pressing it over his untamed, darkening heart. "Thank you all for your hard work. I would like to see this completed by the end of the week so we can start the DNA transfer as soon as possible."

With that he snapped for his personal guard to follow, leaving his devout squad to pour over complicated schematics and chatter furiously in Vortian as they came up with a swift game plan for how to replicate the same technology found in now defunct Smeeteries on Irk. As Lard Nar strode leisurely down the corridor of his secret engineering lab, he passed preparation rooms and eyed large holding tubes with fascination. After all of the money saved, the expendable work exerted through the stars, and the carefully guarded secrets from his loving family, he would finally have his fanatical, broken heart back. He would have a chance to rehabilitate his terroristic stalker for the better and restore him to a beautiful vision of perfection to love and to hold close through the night like he should have all along instead of abandoning him to his wrong, grisly ways. There would be no more deafening, organ-splitting pain, no more disgusting insanity, no more harrowing pyrotechnics. There would just be intelligent olive eyes, smooth expanses of pale purple skin, and excitedly twitching horns craning into the incredible touch of psychologically tortured hands. Yeah…yeah…he could do this. He could do this and bring him back forever….forever.

_Keep going, Lard Nar. I'm almost home, love…I'm almost home._

* * *

Hope you enjoyed and be sure to leave a review if you have time! I really appreciate them and enjoy reading them all no matter how small or long!

_**Next Update: Wednesday, December 4, 2019 at 10:00 pm CDT (UTC-5)! See you then my darlings!**_


	32. Prince of the Sun, Lover of the Moon

Welcome back to this episode of My Kind, lovelies! This is the anticipated episode I know a lot of you have been waiting for, and I am so excited to say that we are finally going to have an official, full blown wedding for our two lanky string beans! I am so excited, and I hope you enjoy this rendition of an Irken specific wedding I have mapped out!

**GLORIOUS FANART ALERT:** GUYS WE HAVE MORE FANART! AHHHH! I am so excited to share with you another several pieces that made me super soft when the lovely angel of an artist sent them to me! I adore these, they are so cute, and the artist remembered Red's missing teeth which made me happier than it should have! Our incredible viewer **msbittersworksatmcdonald **on Instagram drew for us three adorable scenes depicting Red and Purple from the last chapter in their new home on Vort! They also included Teem (YAY MY VALLEY GIRL GETTING SOME EXPLOSURE) in all of her steely glory! If you DM the artist on Instagram, they can also send you two pieces they did of Utna (Nulol's daughter and apathetic one-eyed mom) and the scene from "Reencode Me" depicting Red and Kez (tiny fruit snack of an Irken I adore)! Thank you so, so, so much **msbittersworksatmcdonald**! Please follow their page guys, they deserve it!

p/B5l5sFpAuti/ (Post found on Instagram)

**Larrimeme:** I KNOW IM SO HAPPY THE REALM IN MY OTHER FIC YOU PLUS ME EQUALS THREE AND THIS ONE DON'T OVERLAP. I can't even imagine what it would have been like for these two to potentially raise a child in a disturbing world as the one they've lived in. (shudder).

**Chapter rated T for brief language, brief non-graphic nudity, mild suggestive themes, and general adult content.**

* * *

Nervous. So nervous.

Purple gasped as he resurfaced from the warm, comforting bromine of his ritual cleansing bath, wiping sticky herbs and brushing aside fragrant flower petals when they drifted lazily past his soft skin. He ran his palms up over his face with a sigh, scrubbing away fictitious dirt and the mountains of bad karma he had accumulated over the past two cycles as he mumbled incoherent Irken cleansing chants under his breath on a constant string before taking a deep, round inhale and submerging himself completely once more. He had to be clean, had to wash away any remaining twinges of sticky bad luck clinging to his renewed soul through the violent torture he and Red had endured so heavily in the past. He kept his eyes screwed firmly shut and ran his fingers along his long, extensive antennae, feeling over the soft down for any remaining imperfections before gasping back to the chilly surface of the cleansing room and picking a deep pink petal from his cheek.

He and Red had decided to perform their traditional Irken marriage ceremony on the anniversary of when they had eloped under the hazy, eerie light of the terrifying monsters that had once held them captive to preserve the once in a lifetime, gorgeous sanctity of the meaning behind their hasty proposal. It was an act of unadulterated devotion, of pure unabridged love and amorous insurrection to the planet that had irately exiled them from their own ancient, abounding culture before collapsing under the unbearable weight of their dastardly, failed Empire. Purple felt partially responsible and dealt with the unsettling, nauseating knowledge on the daily, knowing his time as Tallest over the whole of his people was a productive one, but also infinitely cruel as he and Red swept brazenly through the cosmos with iron fists to annihilate any race unlike than their own. They had created terroristic enemies of entire societies, pinned their once influential world as the horrendous, unfeeling dictator of the universe and never once looked back until they had learned the truth of the Control Brain's ploy and realized with heavy hearts and minds that they had been utterly, disgustingly wrong. They had been murderous, racist, xenophobic beasts without concern of the delicate, cherished spark of natural life they should have gently preserved with their domineering sway rather than obliterate to nothing more than a dusty memory. Now, the past was the past, and he and Red had to unfortunately live with the consequences of their own appalling ignorance and sleep through the never ending, ferocious nightmares they had wrongfully gifted to themselves.

They were slowly getting better and moving on from the terror, Red keeping himself busy flying his personal ship across the globe as a relief pilot to bring much-needed daily supplies to diverse, blooming communities of all races and creeds popping up around the healing planetary surface. He would come home at night with profound, incredibly excited tales of the thousands of alien cultures he helped present warm meals to or the giggling children poking curiously through his cockpit and asking infinite questions about what it was like to navigate through the stars. Much to his partner's surprise, Red had grown out of his strong distaste for children altogether, instead becoming eager to teach the local Vortlings how his massive ship functioned and allowing them to playfully try on his flight visor as they hoisted their way up into the cockpit with sharp toothed grins. He had gone so far as to suggest one evening over dinner that he was considering opening a freelance flight school on the weekends to teach fascinated younglings the feeling of sheer, bottomless freedom that came with intergalactic travel, mapping out a bright eyed plan with Purple to hopefully have the home venture up and running without a hitch in another two cycles time. The children around the neighborhood had grown to enjoy hearing Red punch the thrusters on his outdated ship, racing behind their tiny home to wave him on with flailing fingers and bounce excitedly for when he would return with strange, exotic trade gifts for them to carry home and show off to their awed friends. It had become something of a weekly habit as more and more Vortlings came to welcome him back each time, warming Purple to his toes when his partner would expertly land between the growing trees in their soft lawn around dusk at the end of his work cycle and brandish an overly full bag of colorful items he had collected before quizzing each and every eager face in broken Vortian on the different parts of his gargantuan ship or on lucid warfare terminology before presenting them with something new they had never had the privilege to play with during their time trapped in children's camps around the once frigid globe.

Red was good with children? Who would have thought?

Red would still have enraged, vicious outbursts at pointless little things when his deep-set anger issues spiked on unexpected impulse, tugging on his antennae and barking orders back in the faces of those who dared defy him before stalking heatedly off to cool down in private. Purple was proud of how far his complicated husband had come, knowing he was trying with all his might to bite back the torrent of carefully disguised emotion squirming beneath the surface of his logical personality and forget that he wasn't supposed to be speaking in Irken, but Vortian. It was a long, harrowing process filled with irate shouts into pillows at night or plates smashed on the hard cobbles of the street outside, but Red was slowly allowing his mental and emotional scars to close under the soothing palms and gentle, loving words of his partner whispered against his lips to pacify the dreadful demons setting his razed mind awash with confusion and self-loathing. If Purple truly thought about where they were now, he would have never expected that Vort would become their permanent, bitter smelling home. He would have never expected his stoic partner to struggle into the front door of their quaint three-bedroom home with oodles of Vortlings hanging off of him as they chattered animatedly for more glamorous tales of his supposed adventures. He would have never expected to have his own greasy, petroleum reeking mechanic's shop where he could blast risqué music as loud as he wanted and get paid to bathe in gritty cosmic dust. Here, with Lard Nar, Teem, Kez, and hundreds more IRM Irkens settling into their new lives and occupations, they had found domestic bliss. This was everything that Purple had dreamed of and more, giving him a chance to live truly and honestly for himself; he could dress himself in iconic baggy t-shirts and faux-leather ankle boots without an advisory team to tell him no, could sip on caffeinated tea and open the shop whenever he wanted in the morning without the stifling inconvenience of a forced schedule to hold him back, and could play stupid games to laugh over with his boisterous family at the end of a long, muscle aching work day. But, most importantly and profound of all, he could entwine his long fingers with the fingers of the man he loved and walk through the streets with him on the weekend without anyone batting an eye or shouting hurtful, disgustingly derogatory slurs in their direction. No one treated them differently here, no one saw them as sickening social pariahs or rebellious anarchists attempting to undermine tradition, but as war heroes and brothers of their esteemed, compassionate King. They could shop together for groceries and snacks to eat, laugh wildly together over ridiculous lewdly told jokes, have candlelit dinners in the back corners of slowly growing Vortian restaurants, and show their deep, everlasting affection in public without being completely ostracized and threatened with the all-too-real words of traumatic, never ending torment or forceful death. They would even catch sight of other couples like their kind sitting at ice cream parlors or skimming electronic readers together over morning coffee as they prepared for the rest of their workday.

This wasn't Irk. This was Vort…and Vort was home.

No one lived on Irk anymore. Inquisitorian researchers had ventured to the abandoned, unmaintained surface to scour the planet for any signs of remaining Irken life and found that the whole of the crust had been evacuated during the brutal, vicious conflict and consistent cannon fire of the coup thrown back in their terrified faces. Some had been taken as prisoner when their enemies rained the apocalypse down upon their doomed bodies, some had defected, and millions of unfortunate others were displaced to the stars to try and regroup to form some semblance of a working society. Purple had been delighted to hear that some of his former citizens had decided to pledge their allegiance to Lard Nar and Vort, relinquishing their Irken citizenship altogether in favor of the just, kindhearted regime one of his closest friends had managed to build. Of course, the King had graciously accepted them with open arms, setting them up with sympathetic asylum and feeding them delectable Vortian foods as they furiously studied to take their official nationality tests and attended language seminars at stations he had commissioned.

Purple pushed the droning political thoughts bouncing through his racing PAK memories down into the innermost regions of his code as another wave of terrified jitters flooded his shivering skin. He willed himself slowly to calm before hoisting himself gently free from the traditional herbal bath Kez had concocted for him earlier in the morning and brushed the remaining rivulets of rust colored bromine from his slick shoulders. Red would undoubtedly be performing the same primordial ritual halfway across the now incredibly expansive city of Hatalca, submerging himself in sweet smelling Irken sages and thymes and stunning moon blooming florals harvested so courteously for them by curious Inquisitorian teams enthusiastically researching their quiet birth world. As much as they both wanted to forget the agony and suffering Irk had wrought forcibly against them, there was something about the weightless, featherlight beauty of a traditional wedding ceremony that captivated Purple beyond belief. Maybe it was a way to bring closure to the hundreds of cycles of hiding his love and preferences away from the prying eyes of the public, or maybe it was a deeper, ingrained instinct that he couldn't seem to swallow down no matter how hard he tried. Either way, Red had agreed enthusiastically and the preparations for their quaint, stunning wedding had commenced over six months ago…Purple just hoped his strange, unexpected edginess would die down so he could focus.

He and Red were already married. Why was this so nerve-racking?

He crossed the tiny room and plucked a plush towel from a makeshift cupboard Red had built for them, wrapping himself in the opulent, soft embrace of cheap fabric as he ran through what else must be done before he could be on his way to the deep, cool air of the cave they had chosen to perform their sacred eternal ceremony in. He had washed away what remained of the gooey, vicious violence latching onto his aura, paving the way for him and his life mate to start anew as a pair and focus solely on their domestic travels rather than on the toils of their broken, ravaged past. He blinked, slinging the petite cabinet back open and securing his towel firmly around his thin waist as he hunted through the extensive collection of foreign oils and thick, firm ambers his partner had gifted to him through his travels, plucking bottles and containers and scenting them with his long antennae to try and find one he knew Red would absolutely die for.

"Purple, are you almost finished? We need you to try something on!" A voice called out, followed by the harsh tap of a long metallic walking stick to the doorframe. Teem paused before yelling again. "Geez, man, I can smell all of that through the hatch! Just pick one already!"

Purple grinned to himself, settling on the faint, honied smell of elegant vanilla only his partner would be able to smell if he got close enough, dipping his fingertips into the thick paste and rubbing it between his palms to warm it back to an oil before massaging it delicately over his skin and up his ribcage to soften his grisly scar. He took a deep inhale and closed his eyes to the mixture of sickly-sweet scents hanging freshly in the air as he replaced the jar and padded barefoot to the hatch, banging twice to alert Teem to move before carefully pushing it open to keep from smacking her in the face like the hundreds of other times he had in the past.

Lard Nar was working fervently in the center of the room, stout legs hanging off of their collective loveseat as he continued to grind a mixture of bioluminescent insects and bright purple dyes together to create a bitter smelling paint. He stuck out his tongue at the incredibly disgusting scent, reaching forward and snatching for a bottle of fragrant floral perfume before dumping half of the contents into his mortar to continue with the sticky substance. He could hear Kez humming sweetly to herself in the other room as she piped the elaborate finishing touches of smooth icing onto the magnificent three-tiered, luxuriously rich chocolate cake she had offered enthusiastically to bake for free. Teem had felt her way back to the loveseat, nearly squishing Lard Nar in the process before reaching forward and shoving her thin fingers into a chilly bowl filled with ice cold liquid and freshly cut flowers woven into an exquisite headdress and topped with fanciful Irken seedpods, running her now experienced touch over each silky petal and long, firm stem of the expert handiwork as she stared forward sightlessly with a wide beam.

"I didn't expect you to go with flowers. Isn't that typically a wife thing to do?" She chuckled with a flagrant tease, antennae perking to the sound of her friend making his way through the intense preparations to where his expensive mauve suit hung on the back of the front doorframe. "What do you think Red is gonna do?"

Purple reached up and picked away a few stray pieces of lint from his thin lapel, admiring the stunning, flawless stitching the tailor had managed to patch together for him from once flat swathes of sumptuously opulent, sleek fabric Lard Nar had commissioned for him to have. It was perfectly fitted to his form, every swoop and crisp pleat expertly placed to accentuate his biological body and show off for the extravagant final courtship display he was going to perform for his husband. The long tail was of his own design, nearly skirting the floor as a pristinely sharp, fetching homage to the myriad of powerful uniforms he had worn in the past.

"I don't know. I figured Red would do something pretty rigid, so I wanted us to contrast." He explained, feeling his anxiety skyrocket when Lard Nar beckoned him over as he finished his mysterious violet paint, admiring the eerily beautiful glow of sticky goodness dripping from his pestle amidst the crushed insect parts and wing casings he carefully removed and placed into tiny bowl to his left. He followed with a shaky smile, moving back across the floor to position himself in between his two friends before closing his eyes and waiting for the ornate painting of his face to begin.

Lard Nar glanced back to a poorly drawn image Purple had drafted, running his confused gaze over the patterns he was supposed to don his brother with before halfway giving up. "Um…I still don't know what this is. It looks like…well…huh." He finally admitted, shrinking back a bit when Purple huffed in displeasure.

He opened his eyes with a heavy pout, slumping back into the soft fabric of their couch and nearly knocking the stray insect parts free to the ground in the heated process. "Ok, look, I don't wanna draw it _again_." He complained, embarrassed that his artistic skill wasn't adequate enough to portray his vision and only stressing him out further to the rigorously planned events to come. He pointed to the paper, snatching it away when Lard Nar passed it up and directing to the poorly sketched image of his own face as he trailed the complex designs with his fingertip. "This is painted across my cheeks and comes up to dot under my eyes. See? It curls up under my cheekbones. This on my forehead is the Irken symbol for peace. You can't forget about that, it's really important!"

He passed the paper to his still utterly perplexed friend before leaning back down as Lard Nar attempted to memorize every sweeping curve in the detail, adding a tiny bit of violet cosmic shimmer to his concoction from the coffee table and mixing it back together as it glowed faintly in the light. He dipped his hands into the gummy mess and reached up with focused intention, smearing the first line of frigid decorative paint up over Purple's face. Irken weddings had always been opulent and were the only true moment in the culture when the traditional bride and groom were allowed complete creative liberty over their appearance. Typically, the husband would wear a suit and decorate himself with bioluminescent facial paint and natural objects woven together from the planetary countryside while the wife made herself pretty with rouge, scented oils, and flowers woven into a headpiece. Purple had decided to combine elements from every option, commissioning for a natural fluorescent ornament of vibrant, shimmering buds to be elegantly constructed by the skilled hands of an elderly Irken women living a few cities away. She had done immaculate work and preserved the piece in a well wrapped container of chilly liquid to prevent wilting long enough for the ceremony to finally be complete and to contrast stunningly with the powerful, glowing face paint he had thought long and hard about.

As Lard Nar continued his determined, gentle work, Purple felt his pulse quicken at the idea of what his partner was preparing for him miles away with his shop assistant, Len Tarf, and wondering with bursting curiosity how that fairly unartistic mind was going to piece something cohesive together. Red would undoubtedly opt for something angular and firm to match his sometimes daunting, overbearing personality. Would he use crystals? The stunningly attractive idea of his powerful other half revealing himself covered in glittering stones caused Purple's breath to hitch in his throat as he shivered into his friend's tiny fingers wiping away globs of excess and ensuring every line was smooth and in place. What about his suit? There wasn't any doubt in Purple's mind that Red would choose a blinding, overpowering shade of dominating crimson for his courtship attire; he would want to be the most vibrant, dazzling individual in the room as he and his partner glowed delicately together at the forefront of their long awaited, overwhelmingly gorgeous rite. The more Purple thought about the beautiful, personal act they were getting ready to dance gracefully into together, the more he thought about the ethereal, limitless feeling of pressing his heavily scarred palm against his husband's as they recited their carefully planned vows and had their PAKs finally connected in an unrestricted code transfer to mark their stunning forever, the more he felt his nerves flood away to thin air and dissipate like gentle steam. He and Red may already be married, but this…this was their coziest, warmest daydream unfolding in their immediate grasp at last. This was love, this was devotion, this was everything that they had fought valiantly for under the blistering light of plasma shots and the terrifying splash of neon blood hitting soft skin. Everything in their long, extensive, sometimes unstable past had led up to this moment; their first repulsive, spark laden meeting in the docks of the Massive as they bickered, their painstakingly flourishing friendship after becoming Tallest together and finally connecting after their awful failures, and their deep, cosmically radiant self-discoveries over months of being hunted like prey by Pem had all led up to this. They were formidable warriors apart, but an unstoppable, violent tidal wave of amorous devotion and undying dedication together. They were intelligent in their own rights, but profoundly philosophical and astonishingly ingenious when they pooled their collective thoughts and mapped out whole worlds for them to explore in their imaginations.

Red was powerful, Purple was emotive.

Purple was sensory, Red was logical.

Red was protective, Purple was doting.

Always two halves of the same once fractured whole come together to never split…always the same but markedly distinct. From the beginning they were meant to be one, throwing tacky, irate words of spitting hatred back in each other's faces as if unconsciously wooing the other in a never-ending contest of strength and power. If Purple could go back and tell the wiry, lanky mechanic shivering in his own boots and fervently hiding his own identity and heart away from the world one thing, he would point to the disgusting, chauvinistic commander sitting forcefully across his lunch table and confirm that the asshole of a man who had caught his confused attention would one day be his everything. He would tell himself to be there for Red's mental health, to prevent his suicide attempt, to hold him firmly in the dimly lit light of his personal quarters as he spilled every vile thing he had hidden away from the public. That he would wake up to those strong hands slung around his waist every morning in the pale Vortian sunlight, that he would fight to near death to preserve that broken smile because it was the only thing that kept him going through this frightful existence, and that they would be waltzing delicately towards their gorgeous, ethereal forever after having overcome such adversity that they could never imagine their lives again without one another. In Purple's eyes, Red was an untamable inferno, a star that had fallen and claimed an Irken name that would one day release back to the shimmering mother of a serene cosmos they had all been birthed from. He was life…he was _his_ life.

"Kez? Could you come and look at this please?" Lard Nar called suddenly to the kitchen, grinning excitedly and proud of the work he had performed over his friend's face. "I need a second opinion."

Purple let his eyes flutter open just as his tiny sister bounded in a fanatical elation around the corner and immedialty let her jaw drop in stunned silence as she skidded to a stop to admire the otherworldly, arid glow brushed like the finest nebula over his cheeks to enhance his already blistering eye color. Purple felt himself almost choke when Kez burst into a fit of untamable, hot, infinity loving tears at the gorgeous sight of someone she had come to adore so deeply so ready to give himself eternally over to the love of his life.

Kez smeared dark red fondant icing up over her face to hastily wipe away her tears with a thick sniff, unable to do anything else but bawl as Teem felt forward for Purple's hand across the couch. He met her halfway with a victory grin as she too threatened to cry over what she imagined to be a dazzling image of stunning perfection and lost her booming voice, turning back when Lard Nar wiped his hands on the couch and carefully ran his touch up the side of his brother's face with a faint, almost proud smile.

"You look wonderful." He whispered simply, letting his soft gaze trail from the magnificently glowing paint, to the impressively delicate headdress to finally land on the silky satin of Purple's pristine suit. "You also deserve this. After everything you've done for me and the rest of us, I'm so glad I could be here to see you and Red find happiness. Are…are you ready to finish getting dressed?"

Purple looked down to his hands and bit his lip, the same feeling of honied, fluttering butterflies pouring up over his spooch and setting him alight with a need to finally be with his partner completely for the rest of their days. He nodded to himself, trying not to let a sudden flood of emotions cascade down over him at the abrupt realization that without the three surrounding him now, he and Red would probably be dead or displaced.

"Yeah. I'm ready."

* * *

**A deep, dimly lit Vortian cave outside of the city of Hatalca;**

Red had to pull himself together. He had to pull himself together.

He had shrouded himself in a traditional cloak to hide away his artistic vision until the reveal further along into the ceremony, watching as hundreds of onlookers passed by and observed the large crowd of Irkens and Vortians alike pouring into the yawning mouth of the Vortian natural wonder he and Purple had settled on to perform their ceremony. He had been anxious through the whole decorative process, preening his antennae and his claws into oblivion as Len Tarf struggled to perfectly heat press his expensive crimson suit and polish his dress shoes to glossy mirror perfection in the back of his apartment. He had fanatically scrutinized the placement of every ornament he had chosen with well-intentioned tunnel vision, worked and re-worked every glittering piece of his formal headdress and washed off his starkly painted skin to begin anew a full seven times before he was even remotely satisfied with presenting himself to his fastidious partner. Sure, they had already legally eloped and were together, but everyone in the known universe recognized just how picky and finicky Purple could be about appearances; this wasn't like any of their other dates when Red could just throw on a simple suit and tie and call himself good. No, this was their _wedding_, the single most prolific, demanding time in an Irken's life when they were called upon to become a living fine art piece to impress their partner into submission. Instinct and color recognition would take over as soon as their cloaks were removed, and Purple would evaluate him keenly on every single detail, down to the fine dusting of deep black charcoal he had decided to lightly ring his eyes with, and would release a visceral, primitive pheromone if he approved of his partner's craftsmanship. Red wanted to stand before their family, friends, and associates and watch his mate swell with pride at the sheer amount of deep thinking and stunning hue creativity he had managed to pour into his utterly time consuming courtship attire, letting his plain neutral cloak flutter behind him as he paced nervously and watched their eagerly chatting entourage file in and nod enthusiastically up at him through his hood. It had gotten to the point that Red had stopped nodding back, instead mumbling his own well-prepared vows to himself in an attempt to finally ground the terrible shakiness in his knees and bristling, startlingly alluring zeal for being granted the gorgeous privilege of seeing his husband as the fully evolved version of himself. He could almost smell his sweet skin, imagining the brilliant flash of deep amethyst staring back at him from under the godlike vision of perfection he was sure Purple had managed to become, freezing in his tracks when he heard the distinct sound of Teem's risqué laugh through the young, virgin forest in the distance. His pulse quickened to a deafening race, his antennae quivered in anticipation under his hood, his fingers instinctively flew behind his back to rake over each and every claw as he stared forward in premature awe.

Teem had managed to lead, raking her long walking stick through the tranquilly fluttering grass of the stunningly crisp wind of the fall afternoon as she led the rest of his tiny family on towards their brighter tomorrow. Lard Nar had dressed down from his usual kingly attire and had left behind his ornate crown completely, opting for something muted to allow for his friends to stand out as the illustrious center of the attention and revel in the sanctity of their glorious moment as two mammoth guards flanked his sides. Kez moved next, carefully balancing a deftly, mouthwateringly wrapped crimson and violet cake in her tiny, skilled hands as she eyed every bump in the landscape with cautious expectation and stepped carefully around diminutive holes to keep herself from tripping. Then, Red felt his breathing slow when his expression fell blank in jittery eagerness.

Purple.

He couldn't see much of anything under his long, assiduously concealing shroud, watching in breathtaking awe as his partner strode with a characteristic grace across the cool landscape and feeling his pulse lurch every time he caught sight of a tiny flash of lavender peaking out from beneath his fluttering sleeves. He was already beautiful, already flawless, shorting out Red's logical mind in favor of the emotion he typically kept hidden as he approached with a wide, nervous grin and pulled his baggy hood down further around his cheeks to obscure the vibrantly radiating paint slathered over his perfect bone structure. Lard Nar said something that Red didn't register, eyes locked firmly on what he strained to see as his family wound their way deep into the underbelly of Vort's healing crust and left the two alone to begin their first step towards the future they always wanted to have.

Purple said nothing through his childish beam, reaching out and taking Red's scarred hand tenderly in his as his husband stared back in bewildered, desperately curious wonderment to see what he looked like underneath his frustratingly thick layers. Red almost hadn't noticed the signal of faint music playing deep within their natural chapel, blinking himself back to reality when Purple leaned in closer, the scent of soft, intoxicating vanilla lingering between them as he spoke.

"Are you ready to marry me again?" He whispered enticingly, meeting Red's melting, blistering gaze and giggling when he shook himself free of the doey, wide eyed gawk he had evaporated into.

All Red could do was nod and affectionately smile, trying to hide the two empty sockets of his pearly teeth but giving up completely as they began their slow, leisure walk down the winding pathway lit with glowing, magenta plasma torches and casting welcoming shadows over every icicle like stalactite and stalagmite bowing up to greet them as if they were old friends. They couldn't keep their eyes off of one another, desperate for a single glimpse of the artistic wonders hovering right underneath their trembling fingertips as they stepped lightly over cascading ivory flower petals scattered generously through their path and dragging beautifully along beneath the long trains of their weighty cloaks. Red ran his thumb the length of Purple's fingers, relishing in every familiar sensation taking him back to placid, gorgeous times sitting outside watching the stars drift lazily along the horizon or learning how to cook new, exotic foods together in their petite kitchen as they spilled ingredients and laughed.

A muted, indulgent light peaked in the near distance as they continued their amorous walk hand in hand, eating up the feeling of their ardent burn marks held so close for so many to see as they stepped through the radiance and out into the main chamber of the gloomy cave turned stunningly ethereal by the work of their friends and associates. Pleasantly fragrant candles lit their path and separated them from the standing entourage of hundreds craning to get a peak at Vort's most abounding war heroes, and tiny flickering, homemade tealights were clutched carefully in the hands of everyone in attendance. The feeling of balmy heat and heartwarming emotion was palpable in the aromatic ambience swirling delicately around them like a fine mist as lilting swells of ghostly, exquisite classical music echoed from the live miniature orchestra playing elegantly in the background. Massive sashes of stunning, fiery red and royal purple were suspended from the natural rafters stretching the length of the deep chamber above them and glittering in the low glow as Red tightened his grip on Purple's hand and sighed into the feeling of it being amorously returned. He didn't want to let go, holding tight as they neared the raised platform of the petite center stage erected from fine, stunningly white Inquisitorian marble and gifted to them by Prime Minister Sariah herself. Red chuckled under the noise, helping his giddy partner up the main steps of slippery stone and grinning as the orchestra finally hushed.

Chatter ceased and breathing hitched.

Instruments clamored to a slow, easy halt.

Flashing lights from primitive cameras flooded away.

Lard Nar moved up behind the stage, struggling slightly to scale the back platform before his guard dutifully hoisted him up and set him carefully atop his perch behind his two friends as they held their breath and waited for the stunning beauty of their ceremony to finally ensure.

It was happening. It was really happening! Purple was marrying the man of his dreams! Red was giving himself completely to another living being! The two shifted nervously beneath their clothing, feeling the first fringes of bulging emotion and desire begin to overflow from sensitive ocular lenses and fan out over subdued nervous systems as Lard Nar cleared his throat and spoke in the rehearsed Irken language he still knew to this day.

"Welcome! I am excited to announce that we have gathered today for the joining of two ferocious, well-deserving souls in official marriage!" He called out, holding up a hand to silence the crowd when they threatened to scream out their boisterous excitement. "I wanted to say a few words to the lovely couple before we dim the lights and reveal the beauty of what they have created for one another and allow them to perform the sacred Irken right of matrimony before each and every one of us." He adjusted his goggles and slung his hands behind his back as his two brothers turned to listen to the immense, bottomless sincerity of his tear-inducing words. "As you all know, Red, Purple and I didn't always used to be the best of friends. I was shot down over Conventia two cycles ago by then Tallest Red's command and sent to Judgementia for trial. However, I was saved from the grave by then Tallest Purple and brought back to life through the friendship we all graciously developed. I have watched these two fight together on the battlefield, overcome the vicious brutality of entire empires, hold their heads strong against the words thrown in their wake, and fall deeply in love unlike any other couple I have had the fortune to see." He paused when the crowd began to hum in heartwarming praise, waiting for the gentle mirth to die down before continuing with a bright, caring smile. "You two saved my life, saved my planet, and saved my people. I would not be alive without your generosity or kindness, and Vort would be reduced to a mere memory without your skilled hands. Thank you, Red, Purple, for bringing us all together by the determination in your minds and the sweltering fire in your hearts."

The crowd went wild behind them as the chorus began to chime once more, strumming out delicate lisps of fine tunes as Lard Nar took a single graceful step backwards and ushered forward two Irken citizens from the sidelines. A team of tiny, enthusiastic Vortlings from their picturesque neighborhood bounded forward in petite suits and dresses, blowing out each and every one of the candles lighting the walkway as the light dimmed to a faint, wraithlike glow rebounding from the shimmering tealights clutched in the warmhearted hands of everyone in attendance.

Cheers.

Sniffles.

Elation.

The stunning radiance dimmed to a feather light glow cascading up over the marble as Red reluctantly let go of his partner's hands, grazing his longing fingertips back over the pads of his warm fingers as they let their eyes flutter shut in tandem. The weight of the world fell away to a dignified halt and the breathless gasps of the crowd became near silent background noise as the two were finally unclasped from their plain, neutral cloaks and uncovered as they swayed unconsciously in the profound, silvery music singing their souls awake and back into each other's all-encompassing touch. Red could hear the rustle of fabric across from him being elegantly tugged away from his husband's smooth shoulders as Lard Nar rang a blithe bell, letting the snow-white strike of fragile vivacity overtake the moment as the two finally made eye contact once more.

It was almost as if every cell in Red's body had come alive, basking in the pale glow of his partner's shimmering skin splayed with rich cosmic dust from faraway planets and expertly wrapped in a fine tailored, beautifully adored lavender suit cut from a bolt of exquisitely stitched Guarven satin cascading down into a long tail that skirted their platform. He had commissioned a simple but infinitely gorgeous wreath of dreamy, vibrantly colored moon-blooming flowers to be woven into an expert display of sheer splendor and warmth, painting his body with the bright amethyst blood of bioluminescent creatures that lit up and highlighted his smooth bone structure to perfection against the yawning darkness of the peaceful cavern. He was stunningly transcendent, astonishingly heavenly, and the most beautiful, divine Irken Red had ever had the stunning privilege of meeting. He was his deepest reveries, the euphoria that saved him from his nightly fears and apprehensions, and the soft words of hopeful reassurance lulling him back to elusive completion against his tentative past. Purple was everything Red had dreamed and more as he reached out and took his partner's hands in his, feeling the deep-seated pheromones of his ancient biological instinct seep through his skin to taste at the air and flutter over his partner's perfectly preened antennae as he held back the starry-eyed tears threatening to land on his cheeks and streak the intensity of the war inspired paint he had patched together.

Purple felt his own emotions betray him, blinking away the persistent glaze of hazy mist penetrating his awed vision as he looked his powerful partner head to toe and clutched at his fingers with a tender, overwhelmed smile. Red was immaculate, slathered in gorgeous shades of deep, blood-red cotton imported from Plookesia and molded into a sharp, domineering suit with a short tail reaching just past his knee. He was covered in glittering, luminescent crystals to contrast against the delicate folds and bouncing curves of Purple's fluttering flower petals, glowing peacefully in the shadows as Purple's gaze bounced up to the opulent, well-constructed headpiece of sculpted titanium and tiny, raw rubies. He was a virtual king, a strident warlord riding into battle and streaked with the deep black of ashen coals from the passionate bonfire they had held the previous evening, ringing his infinite cherry eyes in the condensed cinders to bring out the strikingly beautiful intensity of the color. Everything about him was in perfect order, a logical, yet breathtakingly ingenious, palette of scrumptious hues vibrating in perfect sync against the deep green of his emerald skin. He too felt it, the surge of ecstatic, impassioned scents boiling up from within his skin and flooding out like a cooling rain to widen Red's smile to a fantastical beam at the anticipated, proud approval as Purple grinned back and silently cried out his overflowing adoration.

Red was the ferocious, balmy sunlight bringing warmth and life to the hills of his long lost home region of rural Naphrus, breathing his carefully cultivated soul into every tree and leaf singing and wafting under his warm fingers.

Purple was the emotive, pearly moonlight singing the massive skyscrapers of opulent Veloria to sleep and glittering peacefully off of every sheet of glass and curved hull of freshly painted ships drifting lazily under his gentle palms.

Lard Nar rang the bell once more when Purple reached up and gently ran a thumb across his husband's salty cheek to kiss him with his touch, the elaborate loveliness of the silvery sound nothing compared to the extraordinary luminosity pouring in rich, color-filled waves over the rippling marble to caress at the antennae of bawling Kez and the rest of the sentimental crowd listening intently for the first of their friends' vows to unfold like a never ending, undying stream of unpolluted romanticism. Red went first, unable to break eye contact as Purple watched him with thoughtful tear filled eyes he had promised himself he would never have, breaking his inner promise to gently sob openly for his nervous partner to hear as he said everything trapped in his mind and rolled it together in a spectacularly reflective, manicured speech he had recited to himself for months in the mirror of their cleansing room.

"Purple of Veloria," he began softly, swallowing when Purple's shaky grip tightened around his fingers, "the moment I met you I thought you were a bit of an asshole. You were the only Irken in existence that stood up to me to challenge my word, the other half of our ridiculously failed leadership, and the weird, cocky freak that got under my skin with your stupid jokes and bizarre ideas. You are also the only person who ever tried to bring me back from my addiction, are incredibly patient with my anger, and you have shown me how to love deeper than I ever knew was even possible." He reached out when one of Lard Nar's guards brandished the now tarnished ring his partner had worn on his finger for a complete cycle, pulling back just enough to tenderly slip it back into place where it needed to remain for the rest of his life. "I love you. You're my world, my galaxy, and my entire universe, and I hope you decide to keep me until the day we die."

Purple didn't know what to say, taking a deep, overly shaky breath as he sobbed breathlessly into the almost tangible feeling of Red's brave, passionate words giving him the greatest sense of home he had ever felt and pushing away any doubt or fear for their future remaining inside his overwhelmed thoughts. He admired the ring he had already become intimately familiar with, running his thumb over the smooth silver as he tried to collect himself enough to speak.

"Red of Naphrus," he finally choked out through is joyful, ecstatic tears, "I honestly can't believe I'm standing here right now with you. I never expected any of this to happen, or for us to ever click in the way we did. We're so different, but we just…I dunno we just work. You let me know that I'm not wrong for loving who I love, that I can be something someday, and that I'm not as weak as I once thought I was." He reached out and took Red's thick titanium ring from the waiting hands of an emotional Vortian guard, sniffing and flashing his partner an untamed grin as he replaced the missing symbol of their marriage back onto his finger. "I love you too a-and you're everything I need in my life and more. If everything else went to total shit, I'd be happy with just you."

The two Irken assistants moved back up to the stage as Red helped his blubbering partner down to his knees, feeling tiny fingers gingerly pop the casing of his PAK and slip carefully past his internal wiring to feel for the connection port that was going to usher in the airy, soul-changing code transfer to finally label them as one Irken completely at the hands of one another. Purple closed his eyes and held his breath, biting his lip in jittery anticipation when his casing too was effortlessly pulled free and two delicate hands brushed back computer boards and soothingly plucked free the tiny curled cable that would designate him as Red's everything, as a half of his sometimes bitter soul and make him utterly complete. The bell was rang a final time as Red pressed his forehead against his partner's, feeling his warm, salty tears stain his cheeks and wash away the intense crimson paint splayed like gorgeous blood over his skin, holding his breath as the two tiny helpers held up their cords for all to see before bringing them caringly near and smoothly interlocking them as Lard Nar's all-authoritative word rang out like a gorgeous song.

"Purple of Veloria, do you take Red of Naphrus to be your life mate to protect from harm, cherish no matter the circumstance, and accept as yours until the end of your days?"

Purple nodded as he sobbed, trying to control the intensity of his overjoyed, blissful smile to little avail. "I do."

He shivered at the feeling of Red's once foreign code slithering peacefully up along his connection port and fanning down across his body like the brightest, most tranquil light he had ever experienced. He heard his partner's strident voice, felt the beating of his quickened pulse racing through his veins, saw every memory he had lived from his hatching to the present as his own on an otherworldly, exquisite loop that renewed the torrent of tender, beautiful, liquid emotion spilling down his cheeks to their laps and staining his once pristine suit with incredible bioluminescence. He was becoming Red on a philosophical level, lapping at the honied scent of spiced cologne gliding gorgeously between their chests as his partner held him tight and focused on the intensity of the feeling he had never felt with anyone other than Purple.

"And do you, Red of Naphrus, take Purple of Veloria to be your life mate to protect from harm, cherish no matter the circumstance, and accept as yours until the end of your days?"

Red scrunched up his face and cried openly against his partner, overcome by the weighty responsibilities and romantic, soothingly galactic feeling of his firecracker of a partner taking over his body. "I do."

He could feel Purple dancing through every cell, every celestial thought he had ever had and kissing away his darkest, most agonizing fears hidden in the innermost reaches of his mechanical hardware as his iconic laugh reverberated like a ghostly echo through every inch of binary code racing between them. Suddenly, there was a strange sense of stillness, a vast ocean of immeasurably comforting exuberance shining vivaciously from within every sector of their PAKs in tandem, setting them ablaze as the last enigma of life's puzzle piece and dynamic happiness was pressed into the miniscule, hollow pit neither of them could seem to fill.

They were whole.

They were each other.

They were one.

No matter who looked at them, no matter how far they traveled for work or how many forlorn emotions they may feel in the future, they would always be able to sense one another on the physical and emotional planes they now shared so deeply. They would be able to feel the other's pulse on command, feel the flood of intensifying emotion and spark of energy shooting up their spines as they drew close, and understand entirely the most intimate desires and lucid fantasies of one another like they were reading them from an open book. Red was Purple's and Purple was Red's until their deactivation day, the two sighing in tandem as they pressed their scarred palms together to simulate the burning ceremony they had already undergone, feeling their personal cables gently coiled back in place before standing and taking each other by the fingers to await the final proclamation of their esteemed King and legally officialize their sanctified matrimony.

"Purple of Veloria, Red of Naphrus, by the power vested in me by the Great Universal Mother, I declare you one Irken for the remainder of your long lives. You may now kiss the groom!" Lard Nar officially removed himself from his pedestal with an excited fervor.

That was all Purple needed to hear. He flew forward before Red could react, throwing his arms up around his shoulders and bringing him into the final, blindingly gorgeous kiss that sealed their collective futures for the better. The crowd cheered and hooted with a boisterous, noisy jubilation when Red folded immediately into the touch and wrapped his arms around his partner's waist to pull him into an unexpected dip.

Candles were relit, IRM antennae waved in excitement, and praise of all languages resounded over the two as they pulled away and thrust their scarred palms in the air for all to see, bounding down over the stage as they were showered with traditional Irken herbs for luck and prosperity before leading the rest of the excited, tear-streaked throng deeper into the cave.

They were officially married.

No one could tell them what they were anymore except for each other.

All Red could do was laugh as Purple tugged him along past vibrant plasma torches to the adjacent chamber, stumbling around immaculately set tables as Torc passed out samples of delectable icecream. Red spun his partner lightly on his feet in an overjoyed fugue as they stepped onto the reception floor to cut their delicious, homemade cake, pulling away from peppery, sweet kisses just long enough to keep on track. Purple had insisted on going first, brandishing the knife for all to see before over-animatedly slicing into the moist, delectable chocolate their tiny sister had so graciously decided to bake for them before grabbing a handful of gooey, sugary goodness on impulse and plastering it directly into his partner's tranquil face, flying into an immature fit of childish laughter when Red reeled from the unexpected contact and completely froze. He wiped his mess of a dessert marbled face on the back of his sleeve and narrowed his eyes, retaliating with a determined grin and capturing his target in his firm hold, smearing molten, sticky chocolate filling over his partner's cheeks and totally obliterating his once beautiful makeup with thick, gushy melodiousness as he snorted. Someone continued to feverishly snap photos as Red finally dialed back and fed his husband their first bite of their magnificent forever, finally drawing their stunning, charming wedding to a close as they were ushered out into the middle of the chamber to have their first, now sugarcoated, slow dance together as a legally married couple.

"You really think I'm not gonna keep you?" Purple mouthed against his partner's warm lips, giving himself over completely to the gentle sway of exquisite footwork and the soothing palm trailing the length of his scared side through his blazer.

Red grinned against him, closing his eyes when Purple pressed his chest to his and brought their mouths tenderly together, following the flawless staccato and delightful undulations of well-timed notes. He pulled away with a chuckle, gliding against his lover's slow, fawning rhythm in the low, glittering light. "What do you mean?" He breathed, flicking his antennae forward to meet Purple's when he tried to get closer.

Purple moved his silky affections to Red's still sticky cheek as he spoke. "Your vows. You said you hoped I would keep you." He snuck his free hand around the back of his partner's neck to his other shoulder, shrouding him completely in an all-encompassing warmth. "If you think you're not stuck with me, Red, you've got another thing coming."

Red held back a snicker at the delightfully affectionate touch vaporizing him into a flushed pool of color and purring into the delicious sensation of his partner so close. "You make it sound like I'm your prisoner or something." He teased, grazing his long stalks against Purple's and drinking in his mind-blowing natural scent mixed with expensive vanilla amber. "I never got to say it up there but you look gorgeous."

"I would have looked way better if you didn't ruin it with your gross face." Purple retorted affectionately, brushing away a flower petal from his partner's shoulder when it cascaded down from his headpiece. "I should have known you'd be self-centered enough to choose rubies."

Red shrugged, sweeping his mate into a lavish flourish as the crowd clapped and cheered them on lovingly from afar. "Am I that predictable?" He mused, moving back forward to steal another quick kiss when Purple went to agree. "Geez, Pur, would a predictable guy tell you that I have the ship packed and waiting outside to take us to Hypatia 3 for a three day honeymoon?"

Purple immediately snapped back and yelled out his excitement, startling the crowd and bringing their romantic, leisure twirl to an abrupt stop as he all but tackled Red to the floor in a frenzied attack. "No way, Red, no way! Shut the hell up!" He pulled away again, gripping his partner hard by the shoulder pads and digging his claws into his bone as he winced. "I thought we were gonna save the money and buy new sheets for the house!"

Red glanced over his shoulder to where Lard Nar gave him a knowing thumbs up before nodding him on and disappearing into the thick of the crowd. "Let's just say someone gave us a pretty awesome wedding gift." He coughed when Purple tightened his grip and squeezed the air from his lungs.

"Are we gonna stay at once of those fancy tropical resorts?!"

"Maybe. Complete with a free massage and everything."

"They bought us a massage too?!"

"No, I'm just gonna give you one while you're relaxing on the beach."

Purple took a deep, overexaggerated breath and snatched Red by the wrist, turning on his heel to wave the confused crowd on. "Thanks for coming, everyone but I gotta go get an awesome massage from my husband! Everyone eat some of Kez's cake it's amazing! Come on let's go, let's _go_!"

Before anyone could protest or question his shaky motives, Purple shot off, dragging Red along against his will towards the central chamber of the cave and outwards to hastily follow the light. He tore his flowery headdress off and tossed it behind him with a victory shout, reaching back to knock his partner's overly expensive ruby crown from between his antennae and giggling when he tried to put up a fight.

"Purple, what the hell are you doing?!" Red struggled to keep up with his exceedingly enthusiastic partner's thrilled gait as onlookers called after them in bewildered perplexity. "We have a whole venue planned!"

"Screw the venue!" Purple laughed, racing around corners and loosening his silk tie to chuck it to the wind. "I wanna get out there and drink a martini on the beach while you treat me like a king!"

Red rolled his eyes, trying to hold back his quickly escalating, giddy excitement as they burst out into the open air of the young forest, yelping when Purple flew around to hoist him up by his waist and pull him into a bruising, impassioned kiss. Red dissolved into the blazing contact, running his palms up his partner's jawline as Purple carried them on through the velvety grass. After everything they had been through, all the horrendous, mind-numbing violence and slanderous adversity, they had made it.

They had made it for themselves.

They had made it for each other.

They would never be apart.

* * *

**Twelve hours later; an unidentified Vortian engineering lab three miles under the surface;**

Lard Nar shoved another forkful of rich wedding cake in his mouth from where he sat on the floor of his undisclosed lab, staring blankly forward at the strange form wavering back at him in a massive vat of time stasis liquid. His team had done an impeccable job piecing together a usable device capable of copying DNA from even the oldest, nastiest blood on the market, injecting his long-lost faux lover's strand into a cluster of stem cells for rapid aging over the course of two days. The rest of the team had gone home, two guards wavering outside of the door as he sat alone in the disturbing dark and munched on the first bit of solid substance he had allowed himself to eat in the past week since his reprehensible scheme had taken effect. He swallowed thickly, finishing off his last few bites of chocolatey goodness before brushing his fine china carelessly to the side and repositioning his opulent broach over his shoulder, taking a few unstable, erratic steps forward to press his face longingly against the glass of the holding chamber.

"When are you going to wake up?" He whimpered woefully, running a dejected, despondent palm over the glass to try and get closer to the now adult body and disgustingly familiar face his team of expert scientists had been able to accelerate to maturity. "Will you remember who you are? Will you remember…_me_?"

Stout, front curled horns twitched aimlessly through their viscous liquid prison, pale mauve skin was finally free of sickening scars and the constant reminders of horrendous past tortures, and the destroyed joint in his left knee had been scanned and found to be completely repaired. There were no more deep, penetrating holes in his delicate abdomen from the fiery, unfortunate crash into the Spike of Judgement and his hand was no longer a mess of gooey, limp tendons and hanging flesh but a whole, fully formed appendage that Lard Nar desperately wanted to reach out and grasp. His pulse had been shocked gently to life by a single electric wave rocketed through his chamber, bringing his new heart back to precious, beating life as Lard Nar stared in fascination up at the steady blip humming rhythmically over the lone monitor glaring back at him.

So much life…so much incredible, reanimated life.

He was here.

He was _living_.

He was breathing through the help of a respirator. His lungs were exhaling manually and pumping hydrogen through every precious cell in his incredible body. He was being fed through a tube snaked down the back of his throat to his unperforated stomach. Everything was perfect…absolutely, undeniably perfect and the vision of delectable health.

Why then? Why wouldn't he wake up?

Lard Nar kicked at the tall chamber with an irate shout, turning on his needlelike feet and stomping in the other direction to throw his unstable hands hotly in front of him. "You told me you would always be here!" He jabbed a harsh finger at the unmoving body of the Vortian man who had become his wild obsession. "I brought you back to life! I did that with my money and you're still not here!" He bounded back to the tube and smacked furiously at the glass, throwing punches and untamable curses as he grappled violently with his own mounting depression threatening to spill over his cheeks. "What else can I do?! I've given you a body! I-I've given you your soul back, a-and there's nothing else I can do for you! N-Nothing! Just…n-nothing!"

He dug his fingers into the thick pane before letting himself sob openly, sliding down to the floor and curling his knees up to his chest to cry out the overwhelming, soul-crushing feeling of nauseating failure creeping back over his tattered, thoroughly shattered psyche. He had failed. He had failed him again. Failed to bring him back to consciousness, failed to give him the life he deserved, failed to finally have the love he had denied for so long but craved more than a guttural itch he could never scratch.

Failed.

Failed.

Failed.

He would always be a failure.

Lard Nar pushed himself up and fought against his own wobbly, woozy stance as he pulled his arms into his chest and struggled to make his way through the gloom to the main hatch. He should have never done this and gotten his eager hopes up for such a low chance at finding happiness. He should have let Pem sleep like the peaceful, tame prince he had become after his grisly death. He would never come back.

Lard Nar reached out for the door handle, immediately freezing and spinning in terrified shock when the pulse monitor suspended over Pem's holding unit began to escalate. He frantically wiped the slick tears from his face and sprinted back, scrambling in sheer desperation to bang at the chamber and receive any form of reaction. Please. _Please_! He glanced back up with wide eyes and pressed his trembling mouth so far into the glass that his sharp teeth scraped the protective coating, fogging it with his thoroughly horrified, equally optimistic breath as he cried out in visceral disbelief when Pem's fingers twitched ever so slightly.

"Pem?! Pem, it's me! I-It's Lard Nar!" He screamed, allowing his salty tears to flow freely once more in tiny tributaries against the barricade as he slammed his fists urgently against the wall separating him from his zealous, erroneous fixation. "Please! You have to wake up! Wake up!"

Pem's heartrate escalated to dangerous levels. Fingers twitched. Toes curled. Horns craned back. Lard Nar took a shocked, blank step backwards when his future partner's body jerked violently, retching forward and slamming a palm hard against the glass in bewildered confusion as his blood pressure skyrocketed and he flailed against the tubing stuck to his naked form.

Suddenly, stillness. Peace. Ragged breathing. Dissociation.

Bleary olive eyes flittered blindly open to readjust to the strange, eerie gloom of the engineering bay, staring sightlessly forward with a bizarre glassy incoherence as his fogged, incomprehensible mind tried to catch up to the nauseating feeling of being brought back from the literal grave. He tried to mouth something, giving up around the feeding tube forcing his jaw open as he struggled with his fleeting cognition, unable to make out any form of articulate shapes or patterns in the darkness.

Pem was here.

Pem was alive.

Pem was _back_.

* * *

Thank you lovelies! I hope to see you again for our next update!

**Next Update time: Sunday, December 8, 2019 at 10:00 pm CDT (UTC -5)! Thanks for all of your support and I love you!**


	33. Fear Dot JPEG

Hello my beautiful lovelies! I'm so happy you guys enjoyed the last chapter! It was so absolutely fun to write and dream up what an Irken wedding might look like, and I took a lot of inspiration from tropical birds and their courtship displays. Anyway, I hope you all also enjoy this chapter and thank you so much for your returning support to this fic! This became a much bigger project then I was expecting so this really, really makes me feel at home when I come back to write for you guys. Thank you follow family, favorite family, and the random guests who keep coming back every time! I love you all equally darlings!

**Mipex:** I am still working on voice headcannons! I haven't forgotten, lovely! I have just been so busy with things that I haven't gotten around to it yet!

This chapter was named by request from my buddy **calloriebean** on Instagram. YOU ROCK AND IT'S GREAT. I LOVE IT.

_**THIS CHAPTER IS UNBETAED AND MAY CONTAIN MINOR SPELLING MISTAKES/GRAMMER MISTAKES. CHARLIE WILL BE GOING THROUGH AFTER THIS POSTING AND BETAING THE CONTENT IMMEDIATLY. THANK YOU FOR YOUR PATIENCE.**_

**Chapter rated a strong M for graphic depictions of medical procedures/equipment, mild mention of violence/blood, obvious allusions to mental disorder/suicide, heavy suggestive themes/non-explicit sexual content, heavy smoking, brief language, and general adult themes.**

* * *

"No, no, no!" Lard Nar cried out and panicked, scrambling forward to hurriedly pull the weighty drain lever on Pem's holding tank as he began to aimlessly thrash in a blind fog, clawing and tugging violently at the thick feeding tube forcing his tenderly sore jaw open and snatching at his throat with still soft, virgin claws in the thick of his dastardly confusion.

He bounded around the back of the callous device, halfway tripping in the process before hurrying the stasis liquid to drain faster, rapping impatiently on the glass as it whisked itself away. The two guards outside had popped in at the sound of Lard Nar's fervent yelling and he had ordered them hotly away, insisting demandingly that they move to the outside of the premises for further instruction should he need them as he pressed his face further into the glass and fanatically fogged it with his untamed breath. He could feel sweat beading on his brow with every square inch of the goopy, viscous substance he watched spiral down the drain grate, eyeing Pem closely with mounting concern when he began to excruciatingly dig his sharp fingers into the soft flesh of his throat and draw deep blue blood at the uncomfortable, terrifying sensation of having lost control completely. The sheer panic, the guttural horror flashing over his disgustingly pale, softened face had Lard Nar disregarding safety regulations all together as waves of horrendous dread quickened his pulse to the unpredictable, immoral abomination he had brought back to life.

He didn't care how blasphemous it was.

He didn't care how unspeakably bizarre he had become in the mind.

All he cared about was getting to Pem.

He reached out for the security hatch and gritted his sharp teeth against the tremendous weight of the pull, yelping in sudden terror when the remainder of the stasis liquid came crashing down upon him like a tidal wave to soak through his expensive silk cloak and ruin each and every opulent thread. He didn't care, spitting hurriedly to the side as the taste of appallingly bitter medical fluid hit his tongue and halfway nauseated him as he fumbled with shaky fingers to unclasp the green shroud from around his shoulders and throw it carelessly to the side, hearing his priceless broach clatter against the chilly metal of the floor when he fought to scramble forward against the slippery lubricant. He halfway pushed himself up, grabbing for his crown and chucking it to the ground as his wide eyes met the heaving chest of his revived affections palpitating feebly on the floor of his holding tank, struggling weakly to try and untangle himself from the myriad of clear medical tubing and wires stamped precariously to his ribcage to monitor his unsteady, skipping heartrate and shaky breathing as his lungs labored to work for themselves. Lard Nar held back another torrent of happy, elated tears, feeling the gummy substance squish between his toes in his boots as he drew his well-hidden, incredibly sharp boot knife and rushed forward as Pem groped sightlessly for unseen things lilting imaginarily in the dark atmosphere. He hesitated, freezing to hover above his insipid, nude form and swallowing thickly when he realized how incredibly close his touch was to the long-lost partner he never had the chance to have. He could see every ridge, every bone floating rigidly beneath his translucent skin as he shivered, every unfocused, sluggish flick of his bleary eyes trailing uncomprehendingly to his before rolling back again and going glassy in their sockets.

How?

How was he here?

Lard Nar still didn't know if he was lucid dreaming or galivanting through his very dreams become reality, running his free hand up over his own emaciated shoulders to feel for what he was sure would be nothing, squeezing at the jutting bone beneath his fingertips and shuddering into the mind-numbing realism of it all. The tangible darkness encroached around them, deepening dangerously as he stooped to shakily reach out with a cautiously inquisitive hand, brushing a single fingertip along the soft curve of Pem's cheekbone and watching in disturbing fascination as he scrunched up his face and tried to shy away at his uncomfortable, overly-sensitive first physical touch to his new body. Lard Nar's world exploded. Pem was here and he was his. He was so cold but so infinitely warm as he ran his palm down the length of his jaw, tenderly cutting away stifling cords with the sharp edge of his knife. He was so distant yet still so real, a living, breathing individual and a better version of the man he had fought so valiantly against during the war. He was free of scars, free of disgusting lacerations slashed over his gentle chest and back, nothing but unsoiled, silky smooth skin and wide expanses of a fresh start formed in the flesh. He was living. His very blood was pumping under Lard Nar's hands as he carefully plucked away heart monitors and smirked to the sound of the machine flatlining. Pem was utter perfection, retching and gagging as he choked on the feeling of his feeding tube gingerly plucked away from his mouth as he coughed up waves of rogue stasis liquid over Lard Nar's lap before slumping back against the frigid glass and taking his first full, shuddering breath.

Lard Nar didn't know what to say as the words flooded from his shorting psyche, captivated completely by the now gentle rise and fall of his past enemy's weak chest as he pathetically sputtered and mumbled incoherent gibberish under his breath in that mellow nasal tone he had come to revere as his own personal song. He opened his mouth, trying to form some kind of intelligent icebreaker and coming up horrendously short. He had just birthed Pem from his own crusty, stale blood and given him a body taken from generously donated cells; how do you begin to explain something like that? Would he even remember who Lard Nar was? Would he remember his own name or the violent, sickening things he had unfortunately done in his recent, grisly past?

"P-Pem?" He breathed tentatively, reaching back out and inching forward on his knees to wipe his false partner's saliva from his soiled leggings. "C-Can you hear me?" He continued forward when he didn't receive a cogent response, forcing his hands up under his thin waist and struggling to heave him up from the sticky, grime covered floor.

Lard Nar took a deep breath, positioning Pem in his arms as he forced him up to his unstable, jelly-like feet and stumbled to drag him free from the pod he had learned to call his home over the past several days. He was so unbearably cold and hideously blue in the face, his horns hanging flaccid over his atrociously numb form as gentle hands battled with all their might to tug him through the main engineering bay to the side corridor where Lard Nar knew they would be alright. He had to get Pem to warmth and shroud him in the myriad of fluffy blankets and plush fleeces he had so generously prepared weeks in advance for the upcoming revival of his love, rounding corners as he gritted his teeth and forced himself on against the burn in his muscle. He dropped his boot knife to the ground with a clamor and turned, thrusting his back up against a cracked door to thrust it open with his jagged spine, making his way through the dark before stooping to gingerly lay Pem's shivering, naked frame on the ground to hunt for the light. He bounded dutifully across the room, waving on exotic lamps from faraway lands and snapping for flickering electronic candles to warmly light and cast eerie shadows against the far wall. He didn't stop to admire the exquisiteness of the amber glow bouncing and radiating through the quaint chamber, halfway sprinting back to where Pem had attempted to blindly curl into himself for some semblance of comfort and slinging his arms under his armpits to hoist him on as the final traces of bright cerulean stasis liquid dripped lazily from his shocked body.

"Hang on, love. Hang on, we're almost there." Lard Nar reassured with a thick look of concern, stopping at the edge of the low, incredibly comfortable mattress he had imported from off-planet, gingerly lowering his physically exhausted partner down amidst the dense layer of shaggy furs and deep, forest green blankets he had handpicked for the occasion.

He reached out and positioned Pem like a limp doll, taking him tenderly by the feet and rolling him over on his side to face the light before devotedly shrouding him in the warmth he so desperately needed to recuperate and finally come to through his swimming, faltering reasoning. He tried to mumble something aimlessly and reach out for nothing, a fleeting look of baffled confusion flashing briefly through his deep olive eyes before they fluttered shut once more and his renewed hand fell droopily back to the comforter. Lard Nar watched carefully, admiring every slow twitch of Pem's unfeeling fingers and every peaceful winch of his stout horns flittering forward to try and inch into the warmth of the pale candlelight bathing him in lucid opulence. He felt disgusting, soaked to the bone as he worked off his thermal undershirt and leggings, kicking them thoughtlessly to the side and not once looking away from the now slumbering form of the greatest gift he could have ever given himself. They had a chance now, a legitimate, sensible chance to live tranquilly in the Empire without Pem's razed brain causing terroristic devastation over the planetary surface or gutting his enemies like meals as he cackled.

Lard Nar held his breath and smoothed up over his horns to brush away the remaining liquid he found there, swallowing at the uncomfortable realization that he would someday have to have a serious talk with his partner about what they had endured at his malicious hands. If he remembered, that was. His scientific team had warned him about Pem's cognition and spatial reasoning upon rapid growth acceleration and the forcing of his body to take on an age it wasn't ready for. He was expected to have a myriad of nauseating side effects for a few days, among them being muffled hearing, color blindness, and the inability to pull concrete memories as his neurons finished forming completely. He may never remember, and Lard Nar felt a bit dirty at the sudden realization that he was secretly hoping he would remain psychologically blinded to the unspeakable torment he had caused in his past. It would be better that way, giving him a fresh start as the incredibly intelligent engineer he had heard so much about and letting him reintegrate into society as a productive, blissfully happy member of the powerful kingdom he was building. They had ushered Pem's weary, wholly fatigued soul into a body the same age as when he had appallingly taken his own short life, stamping him back into the ripe young age of 238. He was so lithe, so untainted at nearly half of Lard Nar's age of now 423. He felt somewhat wrong about the whole thing, knowing that Pem could technically be his son and grappling with the strange age gap as he willed himself on to slip beneath a sheet of infinitely expensive, speckled fleece from Callnowia, refusing to look his future lover in the face and maintaining a few feet of distance between them as he thought.

Was this wrong?

Was it wrong to want him to forget who he was?

Was it…selfish?

Lard Nar rolled over, turning his back to his serenely dozing partner and watching the gentle, formless flicker of tiny, orange flames dancing within the never melting wax of their fragrant candles. He still hadn't told his family about any of this, keeping them delightfully in the dark and ensuring Kez on a repeated loop that even though she was his personal advisor, she couldn't come with him to this dastardly confidential venture of appalling augmentation of evil flesh he was rebirthing. No one knew except him, two guards, and a team of fifteen hushed scientists and engineers he had run fervent background checks on before allowing their steady hands to even handle Pem's precious blood. He had gone to sleep across the hallway from Purple and Red for over a cycle, scribbling furiously in hidden notebooks about what he would say when Pem's echo of a voice was no longer a figment of his broken imagination but back in his hands for him to cradle and cherish until the end of his days. He had revived the creature that had ruined his two best friends and destroyed their society with his anarchist philosophies, had reanimated the monster that grazed a deep, permanent scar over Purple's once soft body, and had given the beast that had tried to murder millions a second chance he surely didn't deserve through the disgusting bad karma oozing from every pore on his smooth body. How could he tell his loving, supportive family what he had done? Lard Nar curled into himself and clamped a hand over his mouth as he began to sob, unable to look upon the one man in the universe that had become something of a fanatic, feral obsession and gooey mania cascading over his once rational mind as he came to terms with a damming choice he always knew he was going to have to make but didn't want to.

Did he want his family…or did he want Pem?

M-Maybe…maybe he could have both?

Hot, heartbreaking tears fell silently to his silken pillow as he stared forward with hazy eyes, reaching up with his free hand to unclasp his prescription goggles and let them slip to the rug beneath them. What if he told them and they rejected him completely, wanting nothing more to do with him and destroying the only stable home life he had ever had? What if he chose Pem and he ended up becoming the same terroristic demon he feared more than anything in this life? In that scenario, he would be without anyone, cast adrift to rule an oblivious society without the help of his closet advisors, his courageous brothers, and his affectionate sisters. But if he didn't choose Pem, he would go his whole life wondering what it felt like to be loved completely and fully by someone who actually wanted him back, who wanted to care for him and hold him at night regardless of his insecurities or his age and make sure he was always taken care of no matter how he changed or healed. Maybe Purple and Red would understand. Maybe Lard Nar could explain it to them in a way that they would eventually warm up to the idea of having Pem around once more as he shed his vile, nauseating skin of pyrotechnic hysteria and, hopefully, showed his true, innocent colors as a beautifully ingenious inventor and kindhearted architect. Maybe they could find Nea Gen and bring her home again to be reunited with her adopted father so she could mend her wounds of abandonment and finally have a dependable, affectionate family away from the inexcusable pandemic of Irken-Vortian children's camps where they were half starved into agonizing submission and forced to serve the bloody wills of the now fallen Empire. Maybe they could raise her together.

No. He was getting ahead of himself.

Lard Nar peeled his salty hands from his face, wiping them softly on his blankets before shifting to glance over his shoulder at where Pem remained unresponsive as he sunk deeper into the soothing feeling of comforting coziness shrouding him in a love he hadn't been given in over fifty cycles. He wasn't even sure if Pem would want him anymore now that his brain was complete and functioning to the fullest of its biological potential once again, shuddering at the feeling of being painfully rejected after all of his extensive efforts and jumping through secretive hoops to work under the curiously suspicious antennae of his skeptical family back home. He had pushed Pem away back on the Ripper before he had caused their terrifying, bone-crushing crash, remembering the events with a heavy heart and warped mind at how naïve he had been to his own obvious affections. He felt it in his bones, felt it biting at every joint and once overexerted knuckle as he forced himself to roll over and shakily wrap an arm up around his partner's shoulders, drawing his limp chest in against his to share his precious body heat and warm him completely.

Forget the fear.

Forget the inner turmoil.

He had this moment, even if it was fleeting and halfway unconscious, Lard Nar leaning in and squeezing his eyes nervously shut as he grazed his lips against Pem's freezing, unsuspecting mouth, letting his hands trail down along the blithe length of his unscarred neck to stop at his chest and feel for his steady, slow pulse. He deepened the kiss, moving against Pem's still lips as his hands trailed lower to outline his ribcage, memorizing every bit of new, glorious skin he hadn't been allowed to feel before but suddenly wanted to more than anything. Maybe…just maybe…

It was as if a weighty, disheartening switch flipped on in Lard Nar's mind, pushing away cobwebs and a full cycle of flawed, mischievous dust as he felt his palms stop at Pem's thin hips, noticing with mounting loathing and sheer disgust that he had moved forward in his untamed fog to grind against his pelvic bone and drink in the exhilaration of their bodies so close. He quickly pulled away and shrunk back when he realized the appalling horror of what he was doing in the heat of the moment, sickened that a thought like that would even cross his mind at a time like this. He was forcing his risque affections on someone who probably didn't even know him anymore, who was completely unconscious and unaware of the escalation of his body heat and the thrum of his repulsively eager pulse. He quickly felt his inner quarrel and nauseating battle resurface as he slung his feet over the edge of the mattress and sat up, resting his head in his hands as he thought about everything he had done to lead him to such a low point. Pem had once tried to force his love on him, chasing him down and insisting through every denied advance that they were meant to be together no matter how many times Lard Nar fervently said no and shoved him away in revulsion. Now here he was flipping the tables and becoming the ingrained roots of the monster that haunted his deepest, most profound fears and inched up through his chest to squeeze at his fatigued heart. He had taken on that role, assuming that Pem would love him no matter what and not taking into account how he could possibly change in the time he had been flittering as an eerie phantom beyond the physical.

Would Lard Nar really take advantage of the innocent, sleeping body of someone just because he himself didn't feel like he was enough? Would he step that far over the threshold of erroneous displeasure in his desperate search for love?

No.

He was better than this.

This horrendous madness couldn't go on any longer.

Lard Nar pushed himself up with a despondent sniff, staring at his pointed feet as he trudged along and scooped up his sopping wet clothes to leave his innocent, unsuspecting crush in the pale light to rest by himself and be finally safe in a shelter that truly cared about his wellbeing and sheltered him with undying devotion. No more. No more of this psychological torment. No more of this idiocy blinding him into a submission he no longer needed to bow to in his lonesome.

No more.

_No more!_

Lard Nar straightened up, tugging on his sticky leggings and flinching at the frigid feeling of filthy material hitting his already clammy skin. He was a king, a ruler that millions of displaced, homeless, and war-ravaged individuals looked up to and found solace in, meaning he had to give the same beautiful, unbiased treatment to Pem no matter how much he wanted to continue in the heat of the moment he had dreamed about for the past six months. It wasn't his decision. It was his potential future partner's decision if he wanted to accept Lard Nar into his life, to see him as the hero he thought he would feel like and purge his anguish and self-torment with his soft, uncorrupted lips smirking against his. If he didn't, he would have to be alright with that, knowing without a shadow of a doubt that he had at least given Pem the second chance he needed to live a life he had so disgustingly stolen from him years prior during his imprisonment and the gruesome murder of his wife. It wasn't fair, but it was in the same breath, Lard Nar tugging on his shirt and blowing out the flickering candles as Pem sighed and rolled over in his sleep to nuzzle deeper into the soft, soothing feeling of pure silk hitting his sensitive cheek. He made his way to the doorway, cracking it before slumping back against the outside wall and staring through the heavy, unbearable darkness across the corridor at nothing.

"I'll see you in the morning…I hope."

* * *

**Seven hours later**

"Val'ha? (Hello?)"

Lard Nar groaned lowly from where he had passed out against the hard, unforgiving floor, peeling his sweat sticky cheek from the tile and wincing at the telltale feeling of a bulging disk slipped in his war wounded back. He should have known better than to think he was still young enough to be alright after a dastardly night's sleep on the ground, running his fingers up over his sleep laden eyes with a sluggish blink before staring through the darkness and trying to readjust to the lack of light. He couldn't see much, feeling about for his goggles and grumbling to himself when he remembered that he had irresponsibly shucked them before his unwarranted moment with Pem the previous evening, trying to check his internal clock to figure out just what time it was on the surface. He didn't have the faintest, bracing himself against the smooth paneling of the wall before bringing himself precariously to his prickly feet and shaking away the feeling of tight pins and needles razing his shins.

"Um…Val'ha? (hello?)" The same soft, incredibly confused voice rang out again in accented Vortian through the insipid light, snapping Lard Nar back into the moment as his heart leapt into his throat and he tried to swallow down the unnerving, visceral feeling of talking to a dead man for the first time in a full cycle.

What would he say?

Did he look alright?

What if he startled him?

He held his breath and crept around the corner, blinking at the foggy, unfocused image of the door he had left cracked before reaching out with apprehensive, nervy hands to feel for the handle, tugging it open and freezing when he caught sight of a familiar, long-lost silhouette sitting up in the generous, plush bed he had made up.

Lard Nar took a small step forward, growing incredibly uneasy when the voice remained quiet, the only sound ringing over his senses being the horrendous stutter of droning white noise plaguing the room and the occasional crackle of the candle he had carelessly forgotten to blow out before taking his leave. He was so nervous, bringing his hands together and diverting his poor eyesight to the floor out of respect when he noticed Pem scramble for a handful of blankets to shroud his naked, shivering body with and retain what little modesty he felt in the discomfort of the whirring, insufferably edgy instant.

Say something.

"P-Pem…Val'ha. (hello…P-Pem.)" He settled on simply, waiting for a response with excruciating anticipation or a signal to move forward and shifting on his feet when none came. He took a deep breath, trying again and hoping with all of his vigor that he hadn't done something wrong enough to push him away. "Dit sesha il mit casala'hyati. (You have my goggles). Il shenc dit porstac'a hal mit. (I can't see you without them)."

Lard Nar froze at the uncomfortable sound of rustling blankets being gingerly pulled back at a snail's pace, followed by the seemingly deafening sound of delicate feet hitting the rug below. It was all he could hear, every languid, sweeping motion of his science project turned Vortian again lingering at the edge of the bed and clinking his long, menacing claws together as he thought and looked his target head to toe. He glanced up, barely making out the shaky image of Pem's nude form striding gracefully around the side of the mattress to hunt for Lard Nar's prescription lenses, bending in a single fluid motion before hesitating and making his way across the room in the low, muted glow like a wavering, formless being of ethereal light. He felt is breath hitch with every tentative, slow step resounding over his curiously anxious senses, unsure of what to expect and jolting when two hands landed on either side of his face as he squeezed his eyes shut at the foreign, unanticipated sensation grazing his cool skin. Six fingertips dawdled at his jawline as if unsure how to continue, followed by the bizarre, mind-numbing sensation of warm breath escaping from parted lips against his own and the fitted, worn down fabric strap of his goggles being fastened affectionately in place over his eyes. He didn't want to look, terrified that his renewed sight would somehow betray him and show him that this was all a bizarre figment of his destroyed imagination, leaning forward slightly when the same warm sensation ghosted back over the corner of his mouth. No…this was a dream. It _had_ to be a dream. There was no way he was here like this.

It wasn't Pem…It wasn't Pem…it…wasn't…

Lard Nar melted and dissolved like fluttering, airy steam into the atmosphere when the fleeting, featherlight touch became a fully fledged reality, evolving into a deep, entirely reciprocated kiss that flung him over the line of Vort's five moons. Two cautious hands landed on his bony shoulders when he stooped to meet Pem's height by a full two inches shorter, slinging his arms around his waist and hoisting him up from the ground as he laughed breathlessly into the affection he had never realized he wanted so intensely.

Pem continued in their native tongue, brushing tender, smooth sweeps of tiny touches here and there across Lard Nar's skin as he spoke. "You gonna open your eyes and tell me what's going on here?" he mused playfully with another light kiss, laughing with the same beautiful, characteristic cackle as Lard Nar twirled them through the pale light.

He finally opened his eyes with a wide, toothy grin, immediately feeling his heart swell to bursting when he was met with the deep olive, cheery gaze of his past nemesis beaming back at him with a curious innocence he had never had the privilege of seeing until this moment. The final shadow of doubt faded away from his peripheries, filling the hollow pit deep in his chest with the final piece of the puzzle he had desperately tried to bring back to life for so many months. Everything he had done, all of the DNA tests, all of the sleepless, groggy nights of his crew and coffee fueled days over the past months of furious preparations had paid off. Pem was soft and smooth under his bare hands, flushed with the same lively color to his cheeks as he remembered, and smiling with the same amusing, coy slickness he had retained from the grave. Pem was whole…he was whole and he could hear and speak…he could see with his almond eyes and feel with his now gentle fingertips.

He was real.

_They_ were real.

Lard Nar scrunched up his face and readjusted his unsteady hold on Pem's waist as he burst into tears and buried his face into his neck, feeling his partner pull his goggles up over his forehead as he cried audibly and walked them to the edge of the bed. Pem went first, folding into the touch and laughing nervously through his confusion when Lard Nar continued to clutch at his ribcage and unleash all of the pent up, excruciating agony of loss that had opened up the deepest, most unfathomable depression he had ever known in his long life. He still didn't understand why to this day, but that didn't matter anymore as Pem crossed his legs on the mattress and pushed him back by the shoulders to scrutinize the blubbering mess of uncanny, bottomless emotions he could no longer contain. He needed Pem to see them, needed him to hear the words he had repeated to himself on a hushed loop in his bedroom at night as he waited for the day he could say them in person.

"P-Pem, I don't know how much you remember but I have to say this. I-I have to tell you before it eats me alive!" He bawled, clutching at his partner's fingers when he entwined them together. "I'm sorry! I-I'm so sorry! If I had been there for you in the beginning back in prison you would never have gotten as sick as you did and would have healed earlier on but I failed you! I-I failed and I couldn't live with it anymore so I had to do this! Y-You deserve a chance to be well again without any fear and I felt like I ruined that for you by not helping sooner! I-I'm so sorry! I-I don't wanna see you die again! I can't live with that! I-I'm just so sorry!"

Pem curled his lip and cocked his head in disbelief at the blistering agony seeping between them as Lard Nar choked on every word and pelted him with his own insecurities. "Eh…what are you talking about? Do _what_? I don't understand." He responded slowly, brandishing a deeply perturbed, perplexed frown when Lard Nar looked back up in terrified awe. "You're sorta freaking me out, here. What happened while I was asleep last night?"

Lard Nar felt himself fly into a horrified stutter, gripping at Pem's hands a little harder than he was anticipating and watching through his hazy vision as he flinched at the dig of his jagged claws into his tendons and tried to pull away. Oh no. He…he didn't remember. He didn't remember anything! He felt himself smile again through his tears, a shaky laugh traveling past his trembling lips as he realized the sheer luck of the draw the universe had been kind enough to give him. Pem was clueless to the horrors he had committed, oblivious to the war, unknowing of the death of the Control Brains; all of it was now a figment, a long since gone memory of another time and place they never had to go back to again! He laughed again, tugging Pem in for a bruising hug as he yelped, hooking into Lard Nar's undershirt to try and pry him off to little avail. They had a chance at a bright, steady future together, a new existence without thick gore splattered over their faces or slipping organs dripping from within Pem's sadistic, open fingers. He could explain this to Purple and Red and they could learn to accept the strange irony of his greatest love, show him off to Teem and Kez as they listened to his sweet nasally voice talk about engineering equations and scientific advancements Lard Nar was planning to delegate to him. He could reintroduce him to the public in gradual waves as a refugee like the rest of them and give them all a peaceful, safe existence where they cherished one another.

Pem was no longer a monster. He was a man, a Vortian, and a profoundly adored partner.

"Lard Nar, what's going on?" Pem asked with growing urgency as he began to grow exasperated, hooking a foot up between them to shove his partner off and grumble with a sneer to himself as he tried to move back in to capture him again. "Yeah, yeah, can you keep your hands off of me for a minute so I can figure out what the hell you've done?"

"W-What do you remember?!" Lard Nar blurted out almost too enthusiastically, reeling himself back in when Pem's horns twitched in light irritation at the lack of answers he was getting. "I-I guess do you remember…" Dare he even say it? Dare he open that doorway for them to slog through like viscous mud? "Do you remember the war?"

"War?" Pem blinked and finally took a good look at his surroundings, eyeing the facility with growing suspicion and narrowing his eyes to the whimpering mess piecing himself back together next to him. "What? No, I don't remember any war. Where are my clothes?"

Lard Nar ignored him again in his own blissful smog, leaning in to rub his cheek warmly against his partner's and feeling him soften a bit at the affectionate contact he craved above any other. "Tell me what you remember, Pem." He breathed against him with a faint, victorious smile and wandering hands trailing up to rub at his arms and warm him to the chill in the air.

Pem rolled his eyes in blatant disinterest, thinking back through the false, damming events he thought he remembered from the past cycles since his unknown death. "I remember the prison break and Irken scum yelling at us. Um…I remember getting in our stolen Ripper to get off planet and crashing, so we had to find another way off of…wherever we were." He paused, furrowing his brow with a blink as he tried to piece together the strange, mismatched events in his mind. "I remember watching you fighting and some kind of big explosion in a huge Irken ship I don't remember somewhere and-" He stopped, lighting up with a sudden realization as his features went completely blank and a wide, unruly smile etched it's way over his fanatical face. "Hey, wait a minute! I _do_ remember the war!"

Lard Nar nearly choked on his own tongue when Pem stood and crossed his arms over his chest, mulling over everything with a deep, maniacal look in his wide, inquisitive gaze and a returning diabolical fervor that set alight a terror deep inside Lard Nar's mind that he couldn't quench. "No you don't!" He lied firmly, trying to make it sound like a reassurance and flipping his goggles back down as he panicked. "I was confused! There was no war!"

Pem continued to giggle to himself, excited at the odd images flashing through his mind and bouncing over every active neuron firing in his system as he paced. "No, no! There was, Lard Nar! I can see it." He hummed excitedly, bringing his hands together as he bit his lip. "I remember us fighting together against them!"

"A-Against who?"

"Against that weird, cocky, red freak I hate and that whiny purple wierdo. Shame. He was a cute one too. Too bad we killed 'em, right?" He reminded flippantly with the flick of his wrist and a silky purr of false victory, moving back over to plop down in Lard Nar's trembling lap as he reeled from the misinformation his new partner seemed to think was true. "Huh. Can't say I remember much after that though. I must have taken a hit in battle or something." He reached back and slung his arms around Lard Nar's neck as he stared at the far wall in a desperate daze to figure out how to counter such a horrific statement he hadn't been prepared for.

Pem thought they had assassinated Red and Purple? This wasn't supposed to happen! He was supposed to wake up and be suck in a brain fog for the rest of his life, allowing Lard Nar to mold him like a lump of pliable mauve clay into the vision of a perfect husband for his future! He was supposed to be interested in engineering and science, not still hanging on the horrors of bloodshed or his viscous, psychotic need for revenge against the Irken Empire. He swallowed thickly in indolently escalating vertigo and stiffening as the hands of the same terrorist that had murdered his brother and his past love rubbed their way disgustingly across his skin to dip under the collar of his shirt. No. No, no, no, no, no. Please. This wasn't how it was supposed to play out. It couldn't be the same after all of his intensive efforts to bring Pem back from the beyond.

Wait…the DNA.

The DNA he had taken was from Pem's blood, the same blood and tissue that had been ruthlessly experimented upon by the heartlessness of the Irken Empire for hundreds of agonizing, ruthlessly unapologetic days. He had been pumped full of bizarre, excruciating drugs from exotic unnamed plants and terrifying creatures that reduced his brain to a sponge and altered the very fabric of his strain into something vicious, untamable, and utterly sinister out for slippery organs and sickly sweet kisses forced away from Lard Nar's mouth at his merciless leisure. His DNA was modified to something flawed and millions of miles off of the kind eyes of the man Lard Nar remembered from the photograph carefully concealed in the pouch hidden in his cloak outside. He would never be that man again no matter how hard Lard Nar tried, the sinking realization that he had brought back his greatest nemesis, the appalling, sickening terror that wanted his loving family fried on a spit flipping his stomach as Pem continued to pepper sweet, longing kisses over his cheek before moving to his mouth and pushing him back against the bed to move against his chest.

Lard Nar's mind fogged. His breathing slowed as the sickly sweet, lewd scent of Pem's mating pheromones coated his dark undershirt and brushed against his body in light, tentative waves of glittering ecstasy. No. He had fallen in love with an idea, a figment of his imagination from the past playing fantasies of the two dancing together under the spotlight of the annual Vortian ball and cutting ribbons as they laughed jovially in front of new education centers or embassies. It would never happen. He would never change. As soon as he found out that Red and Purple were still alive and living with him, Pem would come unglued and turn back to the same disgusting creature of the ruthless, gory shadows plaguing Lard Nar's worst visions.

He had made a mistake.

Unfortunately…now he was stuck with it.

Pem leaned back with a breathy, hot sigh, grinding down against his lover's hips and groaning into the delicious friction bouncing between them and flushing his now perfect skin a deep navy. "You never got to teach me what you wanted to back in our Ripper before the crash." He mumbled seductively under his breath, folding forward to seize Lard Nar's frozen mouth once more and smile against his teeth. "I've never done anything like this before but I…sort of want you to."

Lard Nar didn't love this monster. He loved the man he thought he would be able to know fully. He squirmed uncomfortably under Pem's weight as he continued his mind-bending, agonizingly sensual assault against his lips, reaching out for Lard Nar's hands with shaky fingers before bringing them to his bare thighs and encouraging him to move further. He stayed stagnant, going deaf to the tiny moans and mewls of desire ringing above his blown out senses and only hammering the nail in his coffin deeper.

This couldn't be happening.

"Is it wrong that I wanna feel you? I sound so weird asking that."

This wasn't how he planned it.

"Um…Do you wanna feel me?"

Maybe there was a way to stop it. Maybe he could get Pem back into his holding tube and shock him just enough to force him into forgetting forever. No that wouldn't work. He would risk damaging his sensitive flesh and accidentally killing him for the second time. What if he showed Pem how amazing Vort had become and revealed his monarchy to him over breakfast? As far as Lard Nar knew, Pem had been undeniably loyal to King Pol Krin, going so far as to not even request his vacant seat when he was making demands to the Control Brains. Maybe he would come to respect Lard Nar in that way as well? If he could get his sadistic partner to see the error of his viscerally appalling ways, they might still be able to cohabitate with the IRM now living on the planet with no serious issues and Lard Nar could show him that Red and Purple had saved the whole of their beautiful planet. Maybe he could fix this. Yeah…maybe there was a way to salvage the demon hanging above him for the better.

He couldn't give up on him like he had done the last time.

There would be no more abandonment.

"Lard Nar? Ugh. Fine." Pem moved away, clearly hurt when his sweltering affections weren't lovingly reciprocated as he shimmied across the bed with a pout. "If you don't want me right now, just say it. I don't wanna do all this work for nothing." He bit sarcastically, shrugging away when Lard Nar's confidence skyrocketed once more as he began to formulate a plan b to the atrocities he had unearthed.

"I didn't say that." He mumbled loosely under his breath, watching tentatively as Pem's horns perked to the unexpected assurance flooding up to stain his cheeks and pop the precarious bubble of his already deflating ego. He followed him over the comforter and went to work shucking his undershirt, tossing it leisurely over the side of the mattress as Pem watched in intense embarrassment before covering his face with his hands. "You're a good person deep down. I know you are." He whispered, reaching out for his partner's wrists and tugging his fingers lightly away from his humiliated, overly nervous visage.

"You think I'm good?" He mumbled in genuine disbelief, unable to make eye contact as Lard Nar lowered him back down and turned his jaw to the side, smoothing over the deep claw marks he had scratched into his throat with his mouth as he purred. "You actually think I'm…a good person? Why?"

Lard Nar nodded against him, feeling a bit of his powerful anxieties melt away into the taste of his partner's milky, untouched skin and the innocent shudders rocketing up his spine with every inch his hands trailed down his taut stomach. "I think you're a good man who's had bad things happen to him. That's not your fault and it's not fair." He muttered, lowering him back and continuing his delicious travels as Pem refused to make eye contact in a mixture of unexpected emotions he wasn't prepared for. "All your life you've been judged for who people think you are and you let them. Why do you let them?"

Pem clenched his jaw shut, snapping to the side and holding his breath when Lard Nar's gentle, loving hands hit places that had never been touched by another. "I don't know." His fervent lie was hoarse and strangled with bitter tears. "I…I mean…dammit, what's the point anymore? I lost everything…all of my family. My planet. My people. But…I-I lost my mind. I'm so stupid, Lard Nar. I don't know how to do anything else but blow stuff up and blow the heads off of those I hate! Even then I don't know who I hate anymore and what if I kill them all?! W-What if there's no one left to murder and I become nothing?!"

Lard Nar stopped the escalating mood when Pem broke down and turned to the side, grabbing for a creamy white blanket and shrouding his tear-streaked face away from the eyes of his lover as he let go a torrent of agony and showed his true, pathetic self to someone for the first time in nearly fifty cycles. Fifty cycles of loneliness, fifty cycles of torture, fifty cycles of self harm and degradation driving him to his atrocious witch hunt against the Irken Empire. It had become his only purpose to replace the one he had lost; his violence was inexcusable and would not go without some form of punishment, but he didn't know anything else. He was completely touch starved of kind affection and unadulterated love, resorting to thinking bloodshed and grisly hatred were the only two things he was capable of doing anymore, teaching himself all of the worst ways to interact with the universe and having everything blow up in his face every time he got remotely close to figuring out a solution to fictious problems he made up for himself to have some sense of drive in this life. He had lost his scientific abilities, had been beaten and mistreated to a pulp by hands he had once trusted, and was utterly, primally terrified of it all happening again.

Pem was a monster…but he was also a victim of physical abuse.

He was a terrorist…but he was also a revolutionary against the people that almost destroyed his own.

He was a narcissist….but he was also the most insecure man Lard Nar had ever met.

What he had done to his friends and family was appalling and low, the worst he could have stooped and his actions were irreparably unforgivable, but in Pem's eyes he was a tiny grain of insignificant sand on an infinitely massive beach of demons that wanted to hurt him, lock him away in a straight jacket, and inject him with more body-altering, mind-numbing drugs until he found a way to end his disappointing, harrowing life once more. If he wasn't on top of the world with everyone beneath the toe of his pointed boot, that meant he was being dominated and crushed like the very insect he saw himself to be through his warped, trauma-induced visions of an apocalyptic future the Irken Empire had promised him and thankfully didn't live long enough to deliver fully.

Lard Nar tried to peek under the shaggy fleece his past nemesis had buried himself into, finding he had a firm, overly powerful grip on the edges as he rolled himself into a tube of self-loathing and mental instability to hide away from the dangers of the world. He settled for placing a delicate, adoring palm over his shuddering shoulder through the plush fabric, rubbing soothing circles over his new body and allowing him to sob openly through the bottomless, never ending fear ripping through his heart and ripping him cleanly in half every second of his life.

"Pem," Lard Nar began softly, attempting to fight against the labyrinth of fabric he had somehow balled himself up into. He wrangled with it for a few minutes more, finally untangling the sheets from the expensive fleece he had managed to tie in impressive knots before scooping him up in his arms and holding him close. "We're both broken. It's ok to not be strong all the time."

Pem didn't fight, slinging his arms around Lard Nar's middle and squeezing him as he bawled out his agony. "I-I…I don't know how to do anything right. Everyone always leaves me behind because I'm not good enough. I-I don't know what I am anymore." He practically suffocated as he hyperventilated, his new lungs working overtime to keep up with the unclear strips of opaque memories trying to come to the forefront of his mind but shorting out in the process.

Lard Nar could hardly take the unbearably heartbreaking cries ringing out over his shoulder and tainting their once peaceful atmosphere. He had to say something. He had to tell him just a tiny bit of what was happening. "Love, you're so much more than you think." He said, reaching in and running a soothing thumb up over Pem's raw, salty cheek as he squeezed his deep green eyes shut. "You're a genius. A beautiful, powerful, incredibly strong Vortian who paved the way for some intense reworking of our political system. _You_ did that. It may have not been the right way, but because of your actions Irk fell for good, my best friends realized they were in love and got married, I have a family, and," he paused when Pem stared at him dumbfounded through his watery anguish, trying to soak in the world shattering information being thrown at him, "we _reclaimed_ Vort."

No more tears fell.

No more disturbing cries split the ambiance.

Pem fell limply back against the comforter to stare up at the ceiling with a blank look of awe stamped over his slick features, mouth agape as he traced his eyes over the length of the rafters and back to unseeingly admire the gorgeous amber radiance cascading up from their plethora of exotic lamps and warming, vanilla scented candles. He couldn't believe what he was hearing, blatantly refusing in his utter, back breaking suspicion and incredulity to register the statements coming off of his partner's tongue as he waited patiently for the news to settle like residue in a churning sea of distrust. Lard Nar got an idea when Pem ran his hands up over his expressionless face, tugging in overwhelmed wariness at the dammingly powerful connotations behind everything he was leaning. He hopped up and skidded across the length of the room, digging though a bag of supplies he had asked his team to move in in the event that Pem needed anything specific, pulling out an outdated, damaged transmitter before striding back and flopping back down next to his partner as he clicked it on and skimmed the Vortian database for information about the takeover nearly a cycle ago. He was careful to select something that didn't talk about his monarchy directly or Pem's gruesome splatter of a suicide, brandishing the device with a tender, patient smile and snuggling up to his lover's shoulder to scroll through the newest images of rebuilt Vortian colonies and gorgeous, young forests of goopy black trees sprouting around the surface of the globe. He showed him the giddy rebuild of Hatalca, the quickly reworking infrastructure as ships zipped through the streets, and the thousands of natural farms that had popped up in the last six months alone to start farming for natural goods again. Pem simply stared up at the magnificently serene, nonviolent pictures of unbelievable perfection Lard Nar continued to scroll through, biting his tongue every time he wanted to spout interesting facts about his administration or show off the beauty of Red's supply run he'd made into a working business. He wanted to take Pem up to the cool autumn surface and let him waltz through the grass, let him smell the sweetness of the crisp, tangy air, and feel the incredible sunlight hit his skin as it filtered through their renewed atmosphere and rained happiness down over them as they stared out into the aether and counted the pale speckles of stars visible in the pale daylight.

"Is this real?" He asked after an indefinite amount of time, reaching up and running a single finger across the screen to caress the smiling faces of a Vortian relief team passing out chilly drinks and warm meals to those less fortunate. "This is _our_ planet?"

Lard Nar rested his head against Pem's shoulder with a tiny nod and a sigh of proud, boundless pride at the look of unending amazement staring up at the beauty splayed over the glass. "It's real, love. No more fighting, no more killing, no more bloodshed. There's only peace now." He clicked the device off and moved it away, dropping it over the edge of the bed to the rug below before rolling back over and scooping Pem up by the waist to slowly move against his lips and pacify the deluge of sticky doubt swirling in his young, still splintered mind and bogging him down as he tried to grapple with the idea of his plan actually working.

They had done it.

They had saved their planet with the help of millions Pem still didn't know about. Lard Nar would keep Pem's terroristic, homicidal intentions a secret for a while until he was ready and stable enough to handle the lucidity of the nauseating genocide he had almost indirectly caused, choosing instead to smooth over his shoulders with tender, longing hands as they tangled their legs together for warmth. They had reclaimed the bright burning spark of the beautiful culture and bandaged it against the awful boots of Miyuki's Elite stomping their way through the countryside and lighting whole forests on fire. There was no more pain, no more fear, no more agonizing doubt, only curiosity and wide eyes laced with desire as Lard Nar pulled back with a breathless grin, feeling it widen when Pem returned it with a genuine smile he hadn't felt in over fifty years.

"It'll be ok now." He reached up and snapped for the lights to cut out, blinking in the comforting, soothing darkness. "We can figure everything out together."

* * *

**An undefinable amount of time into the day**

Pem giggled as Lard Nar reclined back against their warm headboard, lighting a forth cigarette to lusciously chain smoke out his relieved gratification and taking a long, satisfied draw on the delicious minty herb before letting it curl lazily from his lungs as his partner watched in childlike enchantment as the gentle haze joined the thick cloud amassing above them. He sighed and gave a long, slow blink as Pem took his hand in his, toying with the socket of his completely healed, missing finger and admiring the lines in his calloused palm in the low light. He traced his heart line with his finger as his other hand trailed lovingly over his bare, scarred chest, eating up the exhausted feeling of intimate, complete contentment that came with slow, passionate mating. Lard Nar had given him everything, remaining patient when he didn't know what to do and showing him a whole new, risqué world he had never realized was hanging at his now eager fingers and willing tongue.

He leaned further into his partner's chest, watching languidly as he flicked his ash to the floor and glanced down, smiling when Pem reached out wordlessly for a brave taste after some internal convincing. He passed the smoldering cigarette down as he traced at his partner's ribs, laughing genuinely for the first time in a long while when his lover took a short inhale and immediately lost himself to a dastardly, spine-breaking coughing fit, flying up to a sit as he tried to rid his virgin lungs of the sting of hot, unfiltered ash stinging the back of his throat. For someone so formidable and terrifying, he was surprisingly gentle and idiotic at times, a strange sense of innocence pouring from his claws and wholly captivating Lard Nar in the best of ways as he spat over the edge of the bed and stuck out his tongue to the herby addiction he now didn't understand.

"Ugh! Nasty! That tastes like…I dunno what that tastes like! Sort of like a bundle of mint that's been run over by a tank somewhere and spat on by a group of toothless grandfathers." Pem complained mockingly, flopping back down with a snort of a cackle when Lard Nar took his cigarette back and held it expertly between his fingers and burst out in a fit of untamable snickers at the overly-creative mental image.

"Toothless grandfathers?" He choked, rubbing at Pem's still flushed, sweat-slicked cheek with his knuckles as they lounged the day away under the noses of his administration. "Where did that one come from?"

Pem shrugged with a heavy exhale, pulling back when his front curling horns nearly smacked his partner in the face. "You know, why not?" He teased dismissively, giving up to his own maniacal madness and scrunching up his face when Lard Nar took another deep, guttural inhale of tar laden smoke and held it for a few serene seconds before releasing it back to the now nicotine reeking air around them.

"It's just funny." He thought a moment, kicking off a mess of disheveled blankets and removed pillowcases and punting them over the end of the bed with a tiny smile. "You're good with wordplay."

"Wordplay? Mm. Maybe."

"No, really, you're really good with words. Have you ever thought of becoming a reporter or a journalist or something?"

"A…reporter? Geez, I would hang myself before I became one of those bloodsucking parasites."

"Aren't you already a bloodsucking parasite?"

Pem snorted, purring into the feeling of Lard Nar's experienced hands trailing the length of his exposed thighs. "Well played. But no, I've never considered becoming a reporter."

Lard Nar eased into the casual conversation, liking the idea of where it was going and continuing to play on the sudden suggestion. "Maybe you should. They get to be ruthless and cutthroat in their field. They also get to yell a lot and you're pretty good at that already." He joked, dialing back when Pem ran an eager, challenging look over his. "There's a university in Hatalca that teaches journalism. If you're interested we could…um…could go look into it."

Pem thought a moment, finally understanding what Lard Nar was suggesting and shrinking down in his hold at the thought of going back to school for a second degree. He knew he would never be an engineer again; the mathematics of the field was too daunting and irritating to follow along with, numbing his mind to a pulp as he struggled with basic multiplication and adding at this point. It was frustrating not being on the peak of his competitive game anymore, thinking deeply on the new life his partner was offering up to him in the form of aggressive, high energy reporting and broadcasting. Maybe he could be a news anchor instead of a journalist, spouting out fervent arguments and slamming his hands hotly on desks to prove his point as his incredible, unfathomable charisma wooed the crowd to listen to his impeccable taste.

Huh.

He blinked when his lover pushed up from the bed and popped his back, quickly puffing his cigarette down to the butt and dropping it carelessly in a glass set up on their meager end table before extending a hand out over the horrendous mess of sweat and pillows their makeshift bed had deteriorated into. "It was just a thought." He mused compassionately with another tiny chuckle. "There's a shower in the back of the facility. Want to come with me?"

Pem thought a moment before smugly burying himself back into the shaggy fleece cascading around him and rolling through it like the immature menace he was, flopping about and halfway hanging off of the bed to stare at his partner upside down as his horns flopped back. "Nah. This blanket is so much better than you." He snickered, blowing an overexaggerated, condescending kiss when Lard Nar flashed him a knowing look and padded across the room to the door, carefully tugging it open and closing it with a soft click.

Pem listened intently, waiting until his footsteps grew faint into the distance before halfway vaulting back across the mattress and scrambling to find the transmitter from the floor, grinning wildly when his hand landed on the now frigid screen under the edge of their bed. He coughed a bit in his lover's secondhand smoke, propping himself up cross legged and clicking on the device before holding it up to the light and searching for the telltale oil stains from his partner's fingers pressed over the combination on the lock screen. It took a few tries, but he was finally able to break free to the main landing page with a victory shout, falling forward on his stomach and going wide eyed to the incredible gorgeous, stunningly beautiful images of the Vort he had dreamed of seeing again for so long. This is what he was fighting for, the redemption of millions of displaced souls given a second chance after the horrendous, ungodly toils of the Irken menace beating down on the like a hot poker branding them as slaves. That broken society was no more, replaced by cheerful images of boisterous children playing in rebuilding towns and women standing before the grand openings of their new, revived businesses as the economy skyrocketed in a global sense and trade was restored with foreign empires around the star system.

He sighed longingly to himself and kicked lightly at the headboard as he continued his infinite scroll of images, each more remarkable than the last, blinking in sudden confusion when Lard Nar received a personal message and the bright white notice flashed across the screen. Pem mulled over clicking on the file to the extension he didn't recognize, growing wary when an image popped up. His nervous curiosity got the better of him, tapping on the embedded link and nearly dropping the transmitter in his lap at the two wide, ecstatic smiles shining back up at him like two sickening, revolting crescent moons.

No.

They…they were dead.

He and Lard Nar killed them!

Pem felt his nerves spike, anger mixing into the muddled, overly intoxicating mix as he eyed the beautiful tropical scene staring back at him as if to taunt his progress as two tall, Irken figures, one with sweltering crimson fire for eyes and the other with a languid, liquid violet, held up fruity martinis and laughed together on their balmy honeymoon. Honeymoon? Those dastardly menaces that had kept him imprisoned were married?! He felt his pulse escalate as fury surged through his veins at the thought of his two greatest fears, his deepest, most primal wraths covered in sunscreen and lounging together on a serene beach somewhere out in the cosmos without atoning for their sins.

Why? Why was Lard Nar receiving messages from _them_?! Were they taunting him too with their daring escape from justice?! Pem took a deep breath as a strange calm fell over his shattered psyche as he stared blankly down at the enthusiastic images of Red and Purple sunbathing and romping through laser lit parties to wash their worries away with delectable spiced rum, scrolling through the message and landing on their personal extension. His fingertips hovered over the long number, running his fanatical gaze over each and every digit as he tried with all his might to commit it to memory and roll it through his mouth a few times as he gagged on the idea of such hideous hands shooting out sadistic images of undeserved freedom to his partner. He needed answers and he wanted them now.

Looks like he was going to have to pay his long lost, tall friends a bit of an overdue, heart to heart call.

* * *

**The glittering red beaches of Hypatia 3**

Purple purred into Red's touch, letting his eyes flutter shut with an ethereal, melting groan when his husband massaged another glob of sun warmed oil between his shoulder blades and trailed down along the length of his PAK to trace his spine. The sound of the acidic, deep emerald ocean crashing into the coast calmed him to the core, flushing away every last drop of stress clinging to his overused, aching muscles as Red worked out knots in his lower back from all of the stooping and bending he had to perform at his shop. It felt delicious, his partner's skilled, willing touch digging into all of the right places and making his toes curl lusciously against the comforting wicker of his lounge chair.

"Oh yeah, baby." He hummed, voice dripping with silky praise when Red audibly snickered at his overdone reaction. "Just like that…"

"Nice, huh? I figured you'd like this kind of thing." Red leaned down and planted a kiss to the back of his partner's sunburnt neck, straightening back up to continue his work in the gentle, oceanic breeze they both needed so much.

The salt against his antennae, the grittiness of the sand between his toes, Red was in absolute, rapturous heaven; Purple was the scrumptious cherry topping their joint double scoop of tropical icecream thawing lethargically in the sun as his once pale skin was already taking on a deeper, rounder shade that made Red's mouth water to sink his broken smile into the nape of his partner's stunning neck. There was a sudden invasive sound shattering the tranquil peace of the swirling waves, Purple glancing back with an irritated blink and glaring up at Red over his rose gold designer sunglasses when his partner pulled his hands away from his shoulders to shoot a curious look at the transmitter they had thrown haphazardly in the ruby sand.

"Let it ring, Red." Purple mumbled, resting his chin in the crook of his arm and trying to seduce his partner's flighty attention back when he wavered. "This is our honeymoon and we said we weren't gonna mess around with business calls."

Red frowned, ignoring the insolent complains of his other half as he picked immaturely at the wicker of his seat, stooping and grabbing for their device with a look of confusion. "It's not business. It's Lard Nar."

Purple's antennae perked slightly but he still refused to move, letting loose a high-pitched droning whine and trying to pummel Red into compliance with the incredibly infuriating sound. He rolled his eyes with an immature groan when Red shot him a look of complacency, wiping the excess oil from his palms on his shorts before smiling to himself and accepting his brother's unexpected call.

"Hey, tall guy. How's it hanging?"

Red froze, letting his jaw go slack as a revolting, nauseating wave of ripping panic flooded over his spooch and rocketed up his spine in electric waves. He dug is toes into the sand and ignored Purple when he called out in confusion at the dastardly recognizable voice but not quite putting his finger on who it was, grappling with his own fight or flight reflex and feeling a surge of untamable, protective resentment overtake him. Red felt dizzily sick, almost as if he was trapped in a real-life nightmare he could never escape as the threads of his deepest set traumas revealed themselves and wrapped around his delicate throat to choke the life from his vivid eyes.

No.

How?

Why?

When?

No…there was no way. N-No conceivable way this was possible. He was dead, a spattered corpse on Judgementia burned to a crisp and buried on Lard Nar's orders in the community garden of Hatalca. He was a memory, a ghostly figment of fear fluttering through his and Purple's PAKs and haunting them nightly as he hovered between palpable and intangible. Red immediately felt cold when two familiar olive eyes stared back demurely from millions of light years away and a thin, wiry smile craned up to meet him with innocent cruelty and force his mind back to the horrors of war he was trying with all his might to finally forget.

"Long time, no see."

* * *

Uh oh. That's all I can say is…uh oh. Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! I also wanted to point out, because I don't think I ever did, that Pem is two inches shorter than Lard Nar. He's a teeny little thing. Anyway, thanks for coming and I hope you guys leave a review about what you think our fancy red commander is gonna do! Thank you so much for your support, and I love you all!

_**Next update: Wednesday, December 11, 2019 at 10:00 pm CDT (UTC -5)! See you then!**_


	34. We're All a Bit Messed Up

Welcome back my darlings to our next episode of My Kind! I hope that you guys enjoy the chapter and thank you for all the support and continued interest in my work! Live I've said before, this fic has become my baby, and the overwhelmingly positive response (omg thank you I don't know why!) even inspired me to change my major to Creative Writing. Seriously, all of you guys have influenced me so much, and I hope that I have somehow influenced you in a positive way even if you just come for the little bits of entertainment I try to give! Thank you!

WELCOME **x-Chappy-x** AND **JaviSwan** TO THE FOLLOW FAMILY! ALSO THANK YOU GUYS BOTH FOR FAVORITING THIS FIC! I LOVE YOU SO MUCH BEAUTIFUL DARLINGS!

**I created dorky voice headcanons** for Pem, Teem, Kez, and Sledhob and posted them on my Instagram. They were highly requested and the link is below, or can be found at my Instagram **charlocatty**! Here is the piece of the link that FanFiction allows me to post!

p/B58X8HJAU4y/ (post found on Instagram at **charlocatty**)

(THIS CHAPTER IS NOT BETAED. I AM CURRENTLY LOOKING FOR A NEW BETA READER BECAUSE TOM HAD TO STEP AWAY UNFORTUNATELY FOR FAMILY REASONS. THANK YOU FOR YOUR PATINECE AND I AM WORKING ON BETAING THIS CHAPTER AS SOON AS THIS UPDATE GOES UP!)

**Chapter rated a soft M for graphic depictions of blood/violence/death/suicide in the past tense, brief heavy language, non-graphic/non-explicit nudity, suggestive themes, and general adult themes.**

* * *

"Looks like Hypatia 3, huh?" Pem mused in growing interest, leaning forward over his transmitter with a wide-eyed gawk as he searched the rust colored beaches behind his target as Red reeled from the wraithlike, utterly impossible image flashing back at him. "I read that you two are on your honey-"

"What the hell is going on?! You're fucking dead!" Red yelled in disgusted shock, nearly dropping the transmitter again as Purple shot up in alarm behind him at the sudden change of volume. He gripped at the protective rubber casing, unable to overcome his disbelief and feeling his pulse escalate at the thought of the phantom scrutinizing his floral shirt with a naive simplicity coming back from his haunting grave. "Lard Nar if this is a joke, it's not funny! This is serious!"

Pem blinked with a deep frown. "_Dead_?" He repeated slowly, sticking his tongue out as he mulled over the weight of the word and stared blankly into the distance when peculiar, frightening images began to flood his battered memory followed by a dull ache in his once obliterated ribs. He reached up with a confused, tentative palm, grazing his front and feeling the soft flesh he found there as he attempted to rationalize the bizarre, ghostly pains resurfacing in his renewed body. He shook away the strange, unsettled connotations from his mind and forced himself to grin back in order to keep himself on track, refusing to succumb to Red's words. "I'm not dead! _You're_ the one who's supposed to be dead! A cute little message showed me you two were evading justice and galivanting around together as adorable husbands!"

Purple groaned in mounting irritation as he watched his partner shake with fury from behind, flopping over on his back and shucking his rose gold sunglasses before tossing them carelessly to the sand. "Honey, who is it?" He called, pouting when Red refused to answer and remained unenthusiastically stiff. "Geez, would you hang up already? I don't know about you, but I wanna know where you were going with this massage." He giggled, rolling back over on his front and trying to entice his irate partner into submission with a soft purr and a generous gaze across the sand that would normally have Red's spooch in knots.

Silence.

"Hey, is that the other tall guy?" Pem craned closer to the camera as if it would somehow give him a better view as he chuckled in genuine fascination laced with something more sinister. "You gonna let me say hello? I actually called for a reason, you know, so let's get this over with, shall we?"

"Lard Nar, I mean it. This isn't like you." Red growled ominously, narrowing his eyes hotly down at the LCD as Pem curled his lip in perplexity. "Quit with the stupid games! I don't know how you're doing this but I'm on my honeymoon and this is really low of you!"

Pem groaned, bringing his fingers to his temples as he sighed long and low. "Look, will you just go sit down next to him or something? My boyfriend is in the shower and I'd like to speed this along before he finds out I hacked his stuff. I'm…well…let's just say I'm trying to be _good_, ok?" He almost choked on the word and gestured wildly to where Purple was reclining leisurely in the sun, satisfied when Red rolled his eyes at the perceived prank and trudged along kicking up sand as he went to throw himself down next to Purple.

"Ha, ha, very funny. We all know Pem had a total thing for you, but you're taking this way too far, Lard Nar. Honestly, it's getting kind of dark at this point." Red grumbled out his annoyance when his partner sat up and froze, locking eyes with the horrendous monster that had shot him as he waved with a wide toothy grin and watching as the once sun kissed color drained from his cheeks. He thrust the transmitter in his hands and laid back, reaching for his sunhat and throwing it leisurely over his face to block out the light. "Can you believe this, Pur? He's totally messing with us and it's beginning to piss me off."

Purple said nothing, swallowing thickly as he ran his gaze over the vision of perfectly restored flesh and bone blinking back at him with an undeniable glimmer of hatred deep in his steely, olive green eyes.

No.

There was…this was…wait. He was…he was dead. Pem couldn't be here. He just couldn't. His body had been rotting sordidly in the middle of the flower covered Hatalca gardens for over a cycle, a stinking pile of charred ash and grisly bits of flesh barely hanging onto bone and unrecognizable from the hatred inflicted upon his razed, battered body in the form of a blazing inferno of revenge. He had been reduced to nothing more than a figment of demented psychology and horrendously outdated philosophies slowly leaking away from their star system in bloody trickles as Vort healed, not the uncanny, bored picture of fine health waiting patiently for Purple to overcome his mind-numbing shock. He checked back through his immediate PAK memories, hunting for anything he could remember reading in the newspaper over coffee with Red in the morning; there had been hundreds of false Pem sightings in the past month alone, children and adults alike claiming to have conversed briefly with individuals who looked strikingly similar to the menace and hoping for a quick five minutes of fame on the Vortian nightly news. None of the bogus, absolutely ridiculous findings had been confirmed but Purple had always felt a bit of slowly creeping disquiet in the pit of his spooch over the menacing, worryingly toxic thought of his deepest nightmare coming back to physically haunt him in his already precarious tangible reality. He squinted at the bright colors of the screen when Pem moved back in revulsion and shrouded his naked form with a shaggy blanket, shying away out of exasperated awkwardness as Purple let his jaw go slack in unfathomable terror and tried desperately to see though Lard Nar's supposed falsehood for the insensitive prank that it was. Three dimensional horns. Light mauve skin. Nauseatingly thin, wiry smile. Shrill, nasally voice. Nervous hands wringing nervous claws as glittering green eyes reflected pale, orange candlelight and grew uneasy with the silence.

"Huh. You…um…you gonna ask why I called? Like I said I'm on a bit of a teensy tinsy time limit and I really need to drill what I have to say into that thick skull of yours before I have to fly over there and do it with my hands." Pem threatened with a smooth chuckle and a whistle of amusement. "I'm feeling in a _pretty_ good mood right now so let's just make a deal and-"

"…alive?" Purple breathed in horror, feeling every tendon and cell in his body scream for him end the call and fly as fast as possible back to Vort to see for himself. "A-Alive? You…you're not…you're not dead?! H-How?! You…you were…Oh, Vort, this is so weird I-I don't understand!"

Red shot back up from where he had begun to doze in the balmy breeze, chucking his hat to the ground in a fright before turning back to Purple in uncertainty at the mind-bending distress carrying against the wind through his escalating voice and anguish. He did a frantic double-take before Pem spoke up once again, equally captivated and terrified that he was still dancing innocently over their device and growing excruciatingly more realistic with every passing second.

"Why does everyone keep thinking I'm dead? Geez!" He rolled his eyes, growing somewhat miffed when his words kept getting cut off. "Did everyone around me get, I dunno, zapped or something? I'm here. Yeah. Big deal, tall guy, I've always been here. Can I speak now?" He was growing impatient, his voice cracking a bit from its usual sweetness as he picked up the twitch in his fingers and tried desperately to keep them still. "First, I'm surprised the Control Brains didn't go through with their plan to kill you but, hey, I'm not one to judge or ask questions. So-"

Purple cut him off again, not caring when Pem shrieked sharply in frustration and threw his blanket up behind him in blind enragement at the vexingly disrespectful breaks in his time sensitive conversation. "The Control Brains?! Are you kidding me?! They're gone!" He shouted, growing shaky and unstable in his knees as he flew to his feet and began to erratically pace, trying with all his might to keep his sights on his greatest nemesis through the glare of the hot sun as he scrambled to grab for his things and shoot off across the beach in a cloud of oozing panic and scorching dread. "This isn't possible! Y-You're dead! I-Is this another nightmare or something?!" He reached down and pinched himself, dropping the martini glass he had scooped up to the sand and yelling again in guttural terror when he didn't wake up.

"Pur, wait!" Red stumbled after him, frantically craning his antennae into the swelteringly repulsive sound of Pem's squeaky voice as his partner began to unravel, snatching the device back and memorizing everything he could of the background to try and pinpoint a location to no avail. "This isn't a joke?! Y-You're fucking alive?! But…but your body…it's buried in Hatalca! How the hell are you here?! Shit, that's not even the point is is?!" He grabbed Purple by the arm and tugged him along with a bit more force than he was anticipating towards his personal ship further up the embankment as he irately shouted out his incoherent hysteria. "T-This…I saw the photos! I saw you burned to a crisp in the street over a cycle ago and this…I…What's happening?!"

Pem was beginning to grow uneasy and jittery, calming down from his bubbling outburst at his recipient's insolence and glancing down to his bare lap with incredulous skepticism before narrowing his eyes and redirecting his apprehensive attention back to his screen. "Are you trying to confuse me?" He asked slowly, letting his menacing visage fall flat when Red genuinely didn't understand, dragging his husband along against his will as he panicked and threw open the hatch to his Vortian runner. "Hey…is that a Vortian ship? Why do you have one of our ships?!"

"Shut up! Tell me where you are and what you've done to Lard Nar or this is about to get really ugly!" Red hissed dangerously through his uneven teeth, shoving Purple through the hatch and throwing himself down in the cockpit to grab at tangles of dusty wires and oil slicked connection ports as Pem shrunk back in horrendous, swimming misunderstanding. Red fumbled hastily to start his ship as his blood pressure skyrocketed, yanking a long, curled cable from the main console and fumbling with unsteady hands to plug it into his device as his ship sputtered awake and immediately began displaying information across the massive window of the cockpit.

"L-Lard Nar? I didn't do anything to him. We…we're…" Pem repeated, feeling his head began to ache and swim as he wrangled with information he couldn't understand but somehow did deep in the reaches of his overly fogged, sickened mind, reaching up and running an erratic palm over his wide eyes as he stared down at his knees. "What? What's happening? Something isn't right anymore!" He coughed and groaned, flying up to cover his vision completely with the balls of his hands as he clamped his jaw shut. "Shut up! Shut up and let me f-finish! I called you for a reason! I wanna make a deal!"

Figures Pem would be back on his gambling ploy, taking chances and making bets with life that he couldn't reciprocate as he floated through the aether and tried to weasel his way out of every damming situation he had somehow squeezed his tiny body into.

Purple played along with Red's plot, taking the device from his hands as he ran his swift, experienced fingers up over the images displayed across the interactive window shield and broke through intensive layers of security firewalls attached to his missing brother's transmitter, hunting for the telltale ping that would triangulate Pem's location into their desperate, terrified grasp.

"Tell me. You said you wanted to make a deal. What is it?" Purple blinked, trying to look inconspicuous as his partner fervently worked and mumbled under his breath, throwing on his pilot's visor as the ship heated.

Pem remained silent for a few seconds longer, swallowing down his nausea as his thoughts began to race and his spine prickled with a deep-seated, incomprehensible restlessness that forced him up to his feet and made Purple sneer in sudden disgust at the blatant showing of his nude form trudging unevenly across towards the half-open hatch of wherever he had presumably, somehow, hidden himself away for the past cycle without any form of detection. He didn't look right, swaying where he stood as his swirling, ill dizziness consumed him and his horns paled and went flaccid over his forehead when churning thoughts took over his already questionable judgement and threatened to make him physically sick where he stood. He was surrounded by beautiful, emerald green wallpaper and delicious opulence in every way, shape, and form; expensive hand dipped and electronic candles alike dotted every pristine surface of luxurious Vortian made furniture as they flickered lazily through the darkness and cascaded indolently over Pem's boyish face with eerie, unsettling shadows to make him look twice his age as he mumbled silently to himself under his warm breath. Gilded portraits hung barely in sight against the immaculate walls and showed off what looked like freshly commissioned oil paintings of rebuilt Vortian towns dotting the countryside, hooking Purple's keen interest as he stared them down with growing anxiety when the first inkling of sticky, disturbing awareness peaked in his rapidly sputtering ocular lenses. Huh…Purple was almost positive he had seen those before, thinking back to Lard Nar's birthday several months before as a sudden idea crossed his mind. He recognized the faint brushstroke through the pixilated image, freezing in sudden understanding as Red continued to furiously scan the immeasurable vastness of the cosmos for their enemy's location as he leaned haphazardly against his doorframe and struggled to stay upright through his mounting understanding for things that made absolutely no sense bogging his mind down in a gooey, viscous biliousness.

There was no doubt about it.

Those paintings were done by Kez.

Kez had surprised Lard Nar with two gorgeous, ethereal paintings she had secretly done in her free time in the back room of their tiny, joint home before he had moved out to officially live within the rebuilt Vortian Palace and he had been absolutely enthralled with her flawless comprehension of glistening hues and incredible command of perspective. He had been so eager, in fact, that he had taken her up to his new office in the pinnacle of his massive capitol and requested her help to hang them behind his hand-carved desk, the press snapping several photos of the two beaming back in warmhearted delight in front of her beautiful handiwork.

Those paintings were the same paintings that used to be in Lard Nar's office.

But…that didn't make any sense.

Purple had been up to his personal space dozens of times to propose new options for welfare and housing units for the poor and those two, gargantuan pieces of fine Vortian art had always towered behind them as they spoke at length over piping hot tea. So…why were they now dwarfing Pem where he stood? Lard Nar had never mentioned anything about his treasured, priceless works being stolen by the grimy hands of a terrorist on the weekends when they would get together for the idiotic "family" game nights they had started having, and something that precious to him would have definitely been terribly missed.

"Got him."

Red brushed Purple lightly over the arm with rage trembling fingers and jabbed hotly up at the appalling, radiating signal he had managed to hone in on as a look of unresponsive treachery flashed over his once irate features, confirming the worst of Purple's deepest, darkest suspicions as he felt his finally mended heart shatter under the hammer of the disgusting, overwhelming betrayal he didn't want to believe was true.

Pem was on the outskirts of Hatalca in a research facility.

The same research facility where Lard Nar had fervently claimed he was overseeing new scientific research in cleaner PAK technologies.

Their brother, their best friend, their closest ally, their King, had led them on and kept Pem hidden from their view as he conducted Vort knows what three miles underground with the appalling menace that had shot Purple in the side and hung all out to dry over the spit of their own, long-dead empire. He had lied to their faces, spouted kindhearted words at their wedding, and ate Purple's cooking when he was over at their home. He had fought alongside them in the war but…had he? What was true anymore and what was false? What if Lard Nar had conspired to become King of Vort this entire time with Pem and had only decided to help Purple and Red to get ahead and cause the downfall of Irk once and for all for tormenting his people? Why, then, would he generously perform Yult'nab with them all and seal their blood within each other's bodies to become eternally bonded in brother and sisterhood? Why would he remain benevolent enough to allow displaced Irken citizens to seek asylum with his altruistic administration by the hundreds of thousands? What if…what if Pem's death was all an act? What if they had meticulously practiced it hundreds of times in advance to try and keep Purple and Red in the dark of their true intentions of galactic conquest and revenge in the name of Vort?

Purple blinked and gasped when Red rocketed them away from the soothing, sweet smelling atmosphere of Hypatia 3 and onwards towards the drizzly, overcast afternoon set in motion over the grey skies of Vort's capitol. Faint, uncomfortable memories began to bubble up in the bottom of his PAK, causing Red to twitch in mutual discomfort as he went white knuckled the clutch and punched in their warp codes to have a long, much-needed confrontation with their brother and the wild, disorderly extremist he had been harboring in his protective clutches for Vort knows how long. A long while ago, he and Lard Nar had sat outside of Prime Minister Sledhob's gargantuan flagship in the sunny region of Naphrus on Irk and talked at length about what Pem actually meant to his brother; Purple had learned that Lard Nar couldn't let go of the idea of Pem being gone and felt completely responsible, for some unknown reason, for failing him in life and failing to rid him of his own demons before he committed suicide. Purple had fervently reminded his friend that Pem's precarious, atrocious mental state wasn't his fault and that there was nothing he could have done, reassuring him on a kindhearted loop that he had done the right thing in stepping away. He knew deep in the pit of his spooch that his anxious brother had fallen in love but didn't want to admit it to himself for the longest time, a dastardly feeling of grisly uncleanliness leaking beyond his horrific thought patterns and out into his slowly darkening reality as Red ran over the impeding, stomach-turning evidence one more time and slung his head in his free hand when he realized that what he was seeing was unfortunately correct in all of the wrong ways.

Lard Nar loved Pem.

He loved him and there was no going back from that now.

Purple didn't know why or what his idiot brother somehow saw in someone so pathetically tiny and violently repulsive, but there was no more shadow of doubt left in his heating psyche that he had actively sought to keep their enemy out of harm's way. He had helped him escape and had ruined the precious, once undying sanctity of their family with his appalling, treacherous lies. The more Purple thought about it, the more he wanted to take Lard Nar by the throat and punt him halfway across the countryside over the edge of the tallest, sharpest cliff he could find. He was no better than Pem. He was nothing but the lying, cheating, terroristic monster Red had shot down over Conventia so long ago and they both knew that now, reaching out and gripping at the center consul as Red flipped down his electronic pilot's visor as the ship jerked and jolted, immediately gaining speed and shooting away from the peaceful, well-deserved holiday they thought they were going to be able to take after their incredibly gorgeous, stunningly cosmic wedding.

"Ok…h-hang on." Pem spoke up, taking a deep, trembling breath as he attempted to sluggishly recollect himself through the agonizing, throbbing headache now eating away at his valuable brain tissue. "I called because I want to make a deal. Now that Vort is mine and Lard Nar's for the taking and the Control Brains are undoubtedly going to name me Ambassador, I wanted to…" he paused, sneering to himself at the thought of what he was saying. "I wanted to pardon you."

Red blinked in surprise, officially hitting warp and slingshotting them around the planet's atmosphere and off towards their home world as colors swirled and danced as a gorgeous, eclectic lightshow outside their display. "Number one," he began, annoyed that he was even still humoring someone so nasty and cruel from his past, "the Control Brains and The Collective have been gone for over a cycle now, so they can't make you Ambassador. Number two, Lard Nar is King of Vort. Where have you been all this time, under a rock? Number three, why the hell would _you_ want to pardon _us_? You've told me millions of times how much you hate me and want to gut me like an animal so why do you want to pardon us now?"

"L-Lard Nar is…" Pem clutched at his face, almost collapsing to his knees at Red's words like they were the first time he was hearing them as he scrambled to catch his breath at the momentous implications of who he had just slept with and what he thought he knew. "No! You're bluffing! That's all you Irken scum do is lie and use other races for your entertainment!"

"Shut up you little cockroach. You must be stupid to not to recognize the imperial broach of your own people."

"I-I…I don't remember that."

"Exactly my point. Now here's what's gonna happen, kid. I've got your signal pegged and my husband and I are going to call the Vortian authorities on you and your traitorous little friend for crimes against our Empire and our peace. You will go quietly, or I will take you in myself and, believe me, you don't want that."

"Wait, wait, wait! I-I pardoned you! J-Just stay away from me and my boyfriend! I finally have my planet back the way it should be and I don't need your disgusting fingers dipping into it and messing it all up again like she did!"

"Let Miyuki go already! And your _boyfriend_?!" Red gave a fake gag, trying to get under Pem's skin and keep him on the line as Purple dialed for the Hatalca authorities with an incredible rage he couldn't seem to bite back, shakily punching in the long extension to the main office in his gauntlet as they continued their rickety journey through the universe. "You mean Lard Nar banged a little freak like you?"

Pem clenched his fists and threw a hot finger down at the screen, crowding in close to the camera as visible distain flashed behind his pupils and caused his entire body to bristle. "I said stay away from here! I'm actually giving you a chance because…" He trailed off, thick swathes of color flooding up to stain his humiliated cheeks when Red threw his head back and continued to batter him with horrendous psychological torture and pick him apart like individual threads in a disheveled blanket, glancing to the side when Purple motioned for him to be quiet as he opened up a direct line of communication with the Hatalca authorities.

"Because why?" He gave a false snort of hurtful condescension to try and urge Purple to hurry up with his hushed conversation, earning a sweltering glare in return and forcing him to continue on with Pem and keep him from fleeing the engineering compound.

"Because…b-because I lo-…It's not important!" Pem retorted under his breath, screwing his lips tightly shut over his long, menacing teeth and staring derisively at the floor as Red laughed in his face once more and sent waves of impenetrable emotion stabbing through his chest. "I decided I was trying to be good so stay away."

Red shook his head with a low, sarcastic whistle and raked his long claws over the length of the clutch as he steered them on towards their steely, chilling confrontation and his hands wrapped around that tiny Vortian body to squeeze him until he popped. "I'm still shocked that Lard Nar gave you a chance. You're a nobody and everything wrong with this universe. You shot my husband, consented to the takeover of my mind and Kez's mind, and you indirectly caused Teem's blindness! You don't deserve happiness."

Pem swallowed thickly, trying to keep his quickly wavering composure as his frown deepened and his shoulders sagged with a substantial, uncharacteristic misery, a forced smile stamping up over his face to break up the illusion of someone once so formidable and supposedly strong letting a fallen Tallest slice into his core like he was a meal of dastardly, restricting immorality.

"Why do you keep saying things like that?! _I_ didn't shoot him!"

"Yes you did! You shot him in the war, you little insect!"

"No, I didn't! I don't remember that!"

"Man, you really are proving how stupid you actually are inside, aren't you?"

"Shut up!" Pem barked back as he lost himself to the whirlpool of grueling statements and blinding lies, grabbing for the transmitter and shaking it violently through his excruciating, mind-numbing fear for something he still didn't understand but wanted to, biting back hot, irate tears as he slammed the device back down on the bed and screamed. "Lard Nar told me I deserve happiness! He told me I could be good, so stay away form my planet and out of our lives or I'll have to show you how bad I can be!"

With that, Pem gave a final, disjointed growl of animalistic fervor and bared his perfect teeth down at the camera before chucking the screen across his opulent room, effectively ending the call when it presumably shattered to jagged pieces against the far wall and rained down like the perfect ending to his wrath.

Purple reached out with a shaky finger, tapping to end the transmission as deafening static poured through the cockpit and assaulted their antennae before slumping back in his seat and reaching out for Red's free hand, satisfied when he took it but still incredibly hollow at the dark, twisted situation they had stumbled across

"Do you think he really saved Pem's life? He wouldn't do that, Red. There has to be something else going on that we don't know about."

"I…I don't know anymore, Pur. But I know one thing. I'm gonna make him hurt. I'm going to make them both hurt."

* * *

**An unnamed Vortian research facility 3 miles below the surface; somewhere outside of Hatalca;**

Pem threw his hands in front of him with a final shout of agonizing fury when Lard Nar's transmitter sparked violently against the floor, a torn streak left in the decadent wallpaper he had prepared for them both as a consistent reminder of the words Red had tried to pound into his already fragile skull.

_You don't deserve happiness._

He was on the edge of a meltdown at the moment, taking a deep, slow breath and throwing his hands in front of him as he unevenly sunk down on plush edge of the bed and balled his hands into fists before releasing and feeling some of his scorching, frightening tension ground itself down his spinal cord. He repeated the action, crossing his legs and tensing completely before laying back against the bed and releasing the weight of Red's incredibly hurtful words from his shoulders as his emotions threatened to betray him once more.

Questions. Too many strange, devastating questions.

Why did they think he was dead? Why were they alive? Had something happened to the Control Brains that he didn't know about? Why did that evil Irken terrorist have a Vortian ship? Why were they sending Lard Nar excited, romantic honeymoon photos? Why? Why did Red talk about Lard Nar as if they were close? They couldn't be close…could they? He couldn't remember…couldn't see beyond the strange block deep in his fractured, hole-laden consciousness as a single, heartbroken tear landed on his cheek and rolled away to stain the comforter cradling his back beneath him. They were bluffing about the Hatalca security force; there would be no way that two rogue Irken officers could ever have access to such sensitive Vortian information. Pem shuddered, drawing his arms into his quickly chilling chest and forcing himself to stand as he wiped away the evidence of his raw, liquid panic staining his skin out of embarrassment for the sheer amount of soft emotion he had accidently let slip through his carefully masked visage of terror and abhorrence. He grabbed for a comforting, fuzzy blanket and shrouded his sharp shoulders in its soothing, almost motherly warmth like an affectionate hug before making his way back towards the open hatch and stepping into the blinding, all-encroaching darkness of the corridor he had yet to explore. It was unfamiliar and smelled strange, the scent of stiflingly clean medical supplies and anesthetic wafting down the path and only causing his nerves to further spike as his wide eyes adjusted to the shadows. Dozens of unlit doorways dotted the way, each closed off to the prying eyes of the world and opening up into a large room at the end of the hallway that radiated with a pale blue, ethereally phantom-like glow that had him shifting timidly on his delicate feet. The way his enemies had stared at him prickled at his horns and unconsciously drew them back as he listened intently for the sound of rushing liquid hitting porcelain, slogging forlornly along through the overbearing gloom in the opposite direction to find his missing partner where he doused himself in searing hot bromine. There was no way his partner, the anxious, chain-smoking engineer he had come to love over the cycles was…King of Vort. Pol Krin still held office…didn't he? Wait, no. He was shot during the Irken-Vortian conflict and no other king was elected.

C-could he actually be king?

No. That wasn't likely. Lard Nar would have shown off his impressive broach by now if that was the case.

Pem continued on his long trek, inching towards the reassuring mist of hazy steam pouring from a cleansing room at the end of the corridor and shrouding him in the faint scent of his partner's soap and cologne he wanted to extinguish himself with. Why had they insisted repeatedly that he was deceased? And what was that about him being buried in the Hatalca gardens over a cycle ago? He was here, he was flesh, he was unscarred and-

Pem yelped and flew back at the abrupt realization, dropping the light blanket to the ground and scrambling to press his back against the frigid metal of the hallway as he noticed his pristine, beautifully smooth chest he had neglected to see in the low candlelight. He reached up with terrified, shaky fingers and ran his palms lightly over every rib and muscle that had once been swathed with raised reminders of his own never ending suffering and unbearable past experimentation, feeling his breath hitch in excruciating terror when he realized they had been smoothed away somehow. His body was perfect; a silky smooth, continuous swatch of pastel lavender dotted with tiny bruises and accidental pricks from his lover's sharp teeth and gentle lips roaming during their amorous first time as a mated pair.

No. This wasn't right. This wasn't right!

Pem sprinted the rest of the way down the hallway, practically hyperventilating as he pounded on the thick latched door to the cleansing room and heard the gentle swish of bromine splash to a stop when he yelled out in disoriented confusion and clawed at the condensation sweating handle only to find the door firmly locked to barricade him from the only comfort he could think of.

"Lard Nar? There's something wrong! I-I don't feel right! I-I can't remember anymore! I can't remember!" He cried as blistering images of grisly, blood-soaked bodies danced behind his eyelids and the deafening, ghostly boom of thousands of vehement plasma shots rang out in the air from somewhere unseen, rapping firmly on the hatch once more and scrambling back when he heard a single set of soaked footsteps padding hastily across the clean floor to work on unfastening the latch before throwing open the door.

Lard Nar yelped in sudden surprise when Pem practically fell through the warm doorway, colliding hard with his slick shoulders and scrambling to grab furiously at his towel as he was plagued with mind-numbing flashbacks and nauseating cackles flooding from his own past lips as he tore through sensitive flesh and pounded away bloodlines like they were nothing but dust in his claws. He was shaking, reaching up to frantically claw at his temples as a world-shattering headache ripped back through his mind and blinded him in his left eye, sending waves of awful, agonizing pain over every bone in his body and causing him to crumple hard to the ground and clutch at his stomach as he coughed and gagged on the memories of every bone in his fragile body cracking and shattering from the sheer force of his suicidal freefall from the Spike of Judgement. Lard Nar panicked and immediately dropped to his knees against the pale green tile, gently moving to work his wet fingers under Pem's nude waist as he wailed and writhed in unforeseen, sudden torment as the karma of every past death, every life claimed at his once callous fingers flooded back and threatened to yank him down into the pit of fiery hell Lard Nar had plucked him from. He felt his partner convulse in his hold when he brought him to his chest, digging his fingers into the sensitive skin of his undamaged back as he shuddered and jerked through every forgotten memory and past needle stabbed through his arm as he lay strapped on a freezing medical table under searing hot surgical lights. They played in rapid succession like a never-ending movie of appalling choices, gruesome homicide, and scandalous bloodshed from the thousands lost in the Judgementian Conflict alone as screams of excruciating agony deafened him to his partner's frantic voice trying to sing him back to some semblance of rational consciousness. It fanned out over his nervous system and squeezed, rocketing him forward as he vaulted up against Lard Nar's chest and threw his head back in a silent scream of sightless torture, unfeeling to the hysterical hands of his partner raking down his cheeks and trying with every fiber of his desperate being to bring him back from the bizarre, medically-induced dream state he was forced under as every neuron in his exhausted mind fired simultaneously.

"Pem! Pem listen to me! You can be different than what you're seeing! You can be someone else! I-I wanted to give you a chance to be someone new for yourself and only yourself! You're not a monster anymore; you're a man with infinite possibilities and someone who cares about you very much!" Lard Nar yelled over the demented, contorted sting of never-ending syllables of past sentences and threats bubbling up in his lover's throat as he seized and thrashed in his strong, relentless hold like he was possessed by a thousand irate demons. He ran his gentle, erratic touch over his horns as he continued to tremble violently in his clutches. "You have a choice! Please, love, you have a choice and I want you to be happy! We can be happy without the pain and the killing and finally be normal together!"

Suddenly and without warning, Pem collapsed limply forward against his partner's shoulder as his blindly flailing hands softened and feebly fell to his sides on the now cooling floor of the cleansing room. He mumbled something like a broken record, hitching and beginning again as his mind attempted to manually reboot itself from the unbearable overload of cycles of gory, sickening information filling his head with disgusting nonsense and shorting him out like a powerful electric shock.

"Pem?" Lard Nar breathed, scrunching up his face when he continued to stare blankly forward at nothing, burning holes into the horrendously plain walls of the shower walls as he mumbled against his partner's drying skin. "Sweetheart? You're ok. Everything's ok. Shhh, everything is going to be alright, I promise." He readjusted his hold on Pem's slipping shoulders when he lolled back and threatened to fall, pressing a firm kiss to his forehead as he blinked sluggishly and began to come to once more. "I knew this was going to happen to you and I wanted to tell you sooner, but I didn't expect you to remember this quickly." He breathed, flinching when he felt his partner's fingers twitch against his thigh as a weak, undefined groan escaped past his fangs and pierced the atmosphere with the talk Lard Nar still wasn't prepared to have.

"Wassat?" Pem slurred, trying to push off of the slippery floor and only sliding back down into Lard Nar's caring, protective hold and collapsing back against the rapid pulse thumping in his chest. "Where am I?"

He moaned again as his back popped from the intense tension flooding his vertebrae, sighing lethargically when Lard Nar noticed and reached up to massage soothing circles into the nape of his stiff neck, carefully cupping his lover's cheek in his soft palm and bringing him to his to try and remain as close as physically possible through the sweat-slick come down his panting partner was experiencing.

"You're with me." Lard Nar responded with a light kiss to the tip of his horn, watching in apprehension as Pem finally peeled himself back and gracelessly shook the groggy bleariness from is watery eyes before giving a few quick blinks and adjusting to the renewed light. "We're here together."

"Lard Nar?" Pem mumbled, moving to feebly place his fingers over his lover's pressed to his jawline with a faint smile, folding into the much-needed, comforting touch before letting his relief fade completely to be replaced by something philosophically wrong and erroneous. "You, you're really King? The Inquisitorians…they, um, they chose you?"

Lard Nar flinched when he realized his partner knew about the hushed treaty, squeezing his eyes shut at the first of many haunting questions that he knew were to come flooding out in furious succession as soon as Pem gained his usual fanatical mania back. He took a deep, shuddering breath and nodded, peaking and cringing back a bit when Pem looked him over with fresh eyes as if he was dissecting him with an almost logical scrutiny and poking ruthlessly at every heaving organ in his body.

"Yes. I'm King of Vort. I have been for a full cycle now. Um…The Control Brains fell and Purple and Red were labeled as war heroes. I ascended to the…um…to the throne after Irk fell completely." He paused, waiting for the information to sink in before continuing on with everything he could think of that was simple enough for Pem to rationalize in his liminal, uncertain mental state. "I gave amnesty to Purple and Red and several thousand Irkens to live on Vort after the fall because they had no place to go."

"I slept with the King?" Pem breathed in blank disbelief, unsure of what to think when the idea of royalty touching him so intimately came to the forefront of his mind and deeply troubled him. "A full cycle…? And…w-where was _I_?"

"You…oh, Vort, no…please don't make me say it."

"T-Tell me."

"Y-You," Lard Nar felt himself halfway choke on his own massive surge of profound, gut-wrenching fear when Pem regained his shaky footing and finally worked his way back to his feet, bracing himself against the wall with a single hand as he ran over his unscarred skin with renewed, terrified interest. "You…um…you're buried in the Hatalca gardens."

"Buried? No…no, no, no…I-I jumped. I-I killed myself and finally ended the stupid suffering I always caused. I ended it because I knew my philosophies would be immortalized but I also ended it to protect _you _from_ me _when I realized I couldn't shoot you in the Ripper. I-I realized you didn't love me. I shouldn't be here. I should be in your head and that's it! O-Only a thought in your head! What…what did you do? What the hell did you do?!" Pem whispered in agonizingly hurt disbelief, wanting to cry but overcome by mind-numbing terror that had him shaking where he stood as he flexed every one of his six fingers and poked with a newly distorted, perverse unwillingness at his horns as if they weren't his own. "Lard Nar, what did you do?!"

"I…I used Irken smeeting technology to clone you from a blood sample I-I kept from our crash into the Spike of Judgement. I couldn't stand how we left things off and I wanted to give you a chance at a life you deserved."

Lard Nar flew to his feet, scrambling to grab for his towel as Pem began back away in horror, taking off down the hallway as he wheezed uncontrollably through the hideous, ethically unjust abomination of a soul he had become.

He wasn't Pem.

Pem was buried six feet below a beautiful flowering garden with poppies and violets kissing lovingly at his grave and creatures picking clean his bones.

He was a copy. An unnatural sack of flesh and bones grown to simulate his first life by forcing him to relive the cruelty and the dreadful, heartbreaking anguish he had been happy to relieve himself from for his eternal rest in the Beyond as his soul floated aimlessly through the cosmos and was kissed by the stars. He didn't look back, tearing around corners and pushing past a group of scientists who had come to clock in for their afternoon shift, staring in disbelief as Pem yelped in tear-streaked terror and vaulted around the disturbing smeet machine he had been birthed to as he slid ungracefully through the now stale, goopy stasis liquid coating the whole of the main work station of the engineering bay. He flailed, falling forward and grabbing onto the edge of the long table in the middle of the room covered in schematics and theories of evolution and age acceleration, reaching out with quivering, dismayed hands and sifting through the mess of photographs that had been compiled of test smeets from laboratories back on Irk. He felt sick to his stomach, crying out in unbridled panic as he knocked the sordid stack to the ground and snatched wildly at medical charts on clipboards and scanned images of his burned body staring back at him as a mangled, jumbled up heap of rotting, charcoal blacked flesh. He clamped an unsteady hand over his mouth and let the papers flutter lightly to the ground, turning on his heel when Lard Nar finally caught up and reached out stopping when Pem held out his trembling free hand to keep him back.

"My King, what's going on here?" One of the scientists asked from afar, gently retrieving Lard Nar's cloak from the floor and attempting to sling the opulent, priceless broach up over his shoulders as Pem watched in visceral disbelief.

He brushed her off, grabbing for his now completely dry shroud and taking tentative, careful step forward, frowning in growing despair when Pem matched his cautious gait by moving back towards the elevator that would take him up to the rainy surface. "Love, please, listen to me. You didn't have a chance at life and I wanted you to know what it was like to feel affection. I wanted you to come home at night and have someone who wanted to hold you. I want to do that with you." He swallowed and threw his arms wide, stopping completely and relinquishing the choice completely to Pem as he hurriedly glanced over his shoulder to his escape route before letting his petrified gaze fall back on his partner. "You can leave, or we can leave together. I won't stop you."

Pem sniffed, wiping at his eyes with the balls of his hands as he broke down and cried feebly to himself through his fingers. "Why? Why did you bring me back to this awful place? Don't you understand I wanted to die?" He admitted tragically refusing to look up and shaking his head despondently when he realized what a mess he had become. "I lost the war so I took the only way out that I could find; I immortalized myself through death as a martyr. You've ruined my cause! Y-You've ruined my philosophies all because you wanted me back?! I-I didn't want this!" His voice escalated as he bared his sharp teeth for his lover to clearly see, swallowing at the brutal glint of pale blue light glimmering back at him from the smile that had moved lovingly against his only an hour before.

"Pem, that wasn't the ending you deserved! You have a chance to be something great with me!" Lard Nar pleaded desperately, growing uneasy when Pem took a step forward instead and clenched his fists in a fit of rage. "Think about this; you have a second chance that no one else has ever been successfully given. Are you going to take it, or are you going to throw it all away?"

"How could you do this to me?! How dare you think you can play with my soul like this and bring me back on command like I'm some pet!" Pem spat back, throwing a finger up in Lard Nar's face and moving to wrap his fingers around his throat with an irate growl, immediately deciding against it and throwing his hands in the air instead. "I'm not yours to command! I-I'm not your plaything for you to run around like your little demolitionist doll!"

Lard Nar hesitated, carefully reaching down and slinging his cloak around his partner's furiously trembling shoulders and hide his delicate form away from the prying eyes of the room as he stared him down with enough fire to reignite a thousand suns and made him writhe under the psychotic reminisces the sweltering look brought him back to. He turned on his heel and immediately motioned for his staff to move into the other room, watching carefully as they all saluted and filed away one by one to leave the two alone to work through the existential, abhorrent crisis Lard Nar had opened up in their immediate future. Pem eyed them dangerously, his soft face shaded with baleful undertones and stained a deep blue with indignation as he slowly turned back to stare up at where his partner hovered over him.

"I know I'm a terrible person, but _this_, Lard Nar, this goes against everything that is natural. And that's coming from me." He hissed, wanting nothing more than to jump out of his skin and peel himself like a soft vegetable to finally be rid of the dastardly uncleanliness that had seeped through to his bone. "I…I'm dead. No…_he's_ dead. I'm something else with his mind and his memories. I thought I felt like nothing before but now, I really am nothing."

"Please don't talk like that. You're not nothing and you never have been." Lard Nar worked up the courage to plant a hand lightly on his lover's shoulder, waiting for him to retreat but holding unsteadily firm through the profound hostility when he stiffened. He could tell Pem was biting his tongue, chewing on his lip as he held back a torrent of insanity lingering in the back of his mouth and threatening to burst like a flimsy damn. "I know this can't possibly fix what you're feeling right now, but I'm sorry. I hated you for a long time after you shot my brother and my friend, but I've come to realize it isn't all your fault. My brother and Urb Yen had become fanatical and out for blood and I didn't know them anymore. I'll never forgive you for shooting Purple, but he and Red also shot me down over Conventia so they're no better than you are and I still love them. You put our planet in danger, Pem, and you're incredibly misguided, but you were trying to fight against the very people who were keeping us oppressed and destroying everything our culture was. Because of you, my friends fell in love, I gained a family, and Irk fell to allow Vort to rise again from the ashes the Irken Empire burned us to. We're all here together because of _you_." He paused when Pem's look softened to one of distant understanding, diverting his gaze to the floor between their feet as Lard Nar moved forward and shrouded him in another incredibly amorous, devoted embrace and sighing when Pem immediately returned it and buried his face in his partner's shoulder as he listened intently to his improvised speech. "We're all terrible people. My two sisters used to push drugs out of the back of their bar and were working to overthrow the government. My brothers destroyed entire planets, committed genocide, murdered innocent people, and killed my entire crew. And me, I broke out of prison, smoke two packs of cigarettes a day, and I tried to plot the assassination of my brothers more than once when they were still leading the Irken Empire. I guess what I'm saying is that, you're awful, but so are all of us. We're _all_ terrible and we've _all_ murdered. You're still sick and in pain, and I can see it, but when I kiss you and hold you tight all of that goes away and I see the man from this photograph again."

Lard Nar let his hands flutter forward, brushing aside the cloak clinging to his lover's shoulders and feeling for the internal pocket. He smiled faintly when his claws grazed the glossy finish of a priceless image his partner had given to him before his untimely demise, slipping it free from its silken cradle and tenderly moving Pem back just enough to see as he moved a hand to his waist. Pem blinked, reaching out and taking hold of the outdated polaroid he had all but forgotten in his terrified fugue, immediately tearing back up and grinning as he swelled with pride at the image of his tiny daughter clutched in his arms as he laughed vibrantly in a fit of pure joy he hadn't felt for nearly a hundred cycles. It wasn't fair, but Lard Nar was right. They were all awful. All of them had committed massive cultural atrocities, participated in mass homicide, and had overthrown entire regimes because of their strong, unwavering opinions. He thought back to Red and Purple and what he remembered of them before he unfeelingly threw himself from the Spike of Judgement, replaying the images of them fervently working together to bring the monsters that wanted to callously enslave them all offline so their entire universe could live free without the threat of a mass takeover and assimilation into a culture of perfection that would never be their own. They had brought down the Irken Empire and forced them out of Vort, paving the way for the rebuilding of cities and the strong revamping of a powerful, formidable infrastructure as Lard Nar made a safe haven for everyone to live freely regardless of their race or creed. They had defied their entire regime for love and went to the edge of the universe to further every deep, profoundly devoted emotion they felt towards one another and had fought valiantly against him when he had been tricked by the Control Brains to do their dirty work as their fiery puppet.

He was strong…but so were they.

He felt love…but so did they.

He was incredibly talented…but so were they.

Pem felt conflicted, swallowing wiping his cheek on Lard Nar's as he cried and stared down at the image of his tiny, innocent daughter's soft, gentle smile beaming back at him through the mess of soft, homemade textiles his wife had swathed her in. Asha was gone, shot execution style on her knees before him as he was forced to watch and his daughter was ripped from his arms as she screamed and flailed in the claws of a brawny Irken soldier passing her off to a collection's agent for a children's camp like an animal for slaughter. He had been a coward, shrinking back out of primal fear as his wife's sticky blood was splattered unevenly over the surface of his work desk and only then did he have the courage to fight. He had promised himself in that moment, as he tore the antennae from the socket of an Elite officer before having his kneecap shattered by a blistering plasma shot, that he would never be a coward again.

He had failed that promise.

He had lived in fear, fought out of fear, killed out of fear.

But now, as he thought back through the list of beings with the courage to openly challenge and defy his sadistic ranting and heartless, vicious sprees, he realized that they were truly alike. They had all been deprived, all been starved of the love they needed to move on, and Lard Nar and the others had come together to heal from the dastardly toils of war they had endured and thrown themselves into as near martyrs for their causes and with heaving lungs full of love and humanity for their fellow soldier. They were family. That's what family was supposed to do…right?

Could…could he have that?

Could he have a place in this world?

Could he have a family?

Pem brought the photograph to his chest as he thought, looking up and meeting Lard Nar's yellow gaze through his convex lenses and searched his expression for a long while. His partner was right about another thing; he was sick. Pem was sick in the mind and sick in the nervous system, rapidly cycling through thoughts and remembering the atrocious labors of macabre, bloodstained war spilling through his hands in gushes of bright pink and blue to stain at his jacket and pull him away from reality as he lapsed into a psychosis fueled rage and went blind to the world. He hated it. Hated the lack of control and the swimming head sickness that followed when he seemed to come to.

"Do you think I'll ever get better?" He asked suddenly, glancing back up when Lard Nar immediately nodded and flashed him a grin. "I mean, like, in the head? I'm a little bit messed up, you know."

He reached down and gingerly took the photograph from his lover's fingers and replaced it within the folds of his cloak, stooping slightly to capture his mouth and tasting the salty, bitter tears hanging on his lips. "We're all a little bit messed up." He breathed against his skin, feeling his beam widen when Pem snuck a gentle hand up behind his neck to drag him down further with a sob laced laugh.

Pem's giggle turned into a wild cackle of a laugh when his horns collided with Lard Nar's goggles, knocking him back to rub at his cheek when the tips dug into his skin. "I'm sorry! I-I'm sorry, it's still kinda weird with my horns." He let his adrenaline take over, snorting through his mind-numbing terror for their future when Lard Nar joined in and couldn't bring himself to stop.

"No, no! It's because I'm too blind up close to see when you're coming!" He chuckled, tapping at his prescription with a single claw and doubling over when Pem continued his childish snorts through his teeth before slinging himself back forward and capturing his target's mouth once more and he continued his warmhearted mirth through his tears.

This was him. This was the man Lard Nar knew Pem was deep inside. He had feared that the DNA alterations had destroyed every last fiber of his inner, beautiful, absolutely radiant self but he had been disgustingly wrong. If there was a glimmer of goodness shimmering in his abused heart, that meant there could be a spark that could turn to a raging inferno of healing and warmth that could radiate out and cast that beautiful glow of intelligent fervor Lard Nar knew as buried deep inside the innermost reaches of his partner's mind. He was there. He was _here_.

Pem pulled away first, hesitating and thinking a moment as he traced his lover's jawline with the soft pad of his fingertip, memorizing ever ridge and curve as his own personal roadmap to a home he had never had before. He frowned and moved his other hand up, completely immobilizing Lard Nar as he immaturely squished his cheeks between his palms and stepping back just enough so his gaze could focus properly before swallowing the lump forming in the back of his throat. Lard Nar watched in breathless, stunned fascination as the incredibly violent, formidable antagonist that could take out whole armies as he slipped and slid his way through ranks that were not his own spoke up with a voice so genuine, so profound, he wasn't even sure it was coming from Pem.

"I…I'm sorry."

Lard Nar felt the world flood away around them as he watched the phenomenal, gut-wrenching effort it had taken to say something so sincerely kind-hearted begin to chip at the mile thick foundations of Pem's ingrained distain and distrust of everyone around him. He wanted to make things right somehow but, as Lard Nar opened his mouth to say something he found himself at a loss for how to begin with something so unbelievably intense and gratifying. He knew this wouldn't make right most of the terrible, nauseating things Pem had rained down upon him and his unfortunate family, but it was a step in the right direction and he was willing to take the crook of Lard Nar's patient arm and stroll down the million mile long path towards self-love and heartwarming morality for them to have a future together. He had finally realized through death that his actions would only lead to his eventual downfall, ending in another horrific, isolated, wholly repulsive suicide. This way, maybe he could have a shot at a lover…a friend….maybe even a family.

"I'm sorry."

Lard Nar blinked as Pem repeated his statement with a bit more of his usual, cocky arrogance, reaching up and taking his partner's hands in his before returning the simple gesture and sealing the first stitch to mend the trench of a rift that had formed between them over fifty cycles of disturbing power play behind the scenes and forced love they never knew would ever be reciprocated.

"I forgive you."

Before Pem could sling his arms up around Lard Nar's neck and laugh through the incredible feeling of being genuinely honest for once, the sound of the elevator descending behind them rang out, forcing them apart as Lard Nar brought a teasing finger to his lips and hushed him softly against his wiry, overexaggerated grin, excited to show the rest of their team that their beautiful, ethereally stunning project had begun the first operation of thousands to mend his shattered heart and obliterated mind for the better. He turned and took Pem's hand in his, entwining their fingers as he grinned wildly, feeling it immediately fall flat as the door fazed open to reveal two incredibly tall, incredibly familiar faces beating back at him like hot, untamable knives, gazes flittering down to the telltale sign of affection he was sharing with his partner as Lard Nar immediately let go. He glanced to where Pem scrambled to cover himself completely with the cloak, swallowing when Red stalked forward in heartbroken disappointment, Purple hot on his heels and shaking his head in disbelief for the false treachery he believed with all his might that he was witnessing followed by twenty something heavily armed Hatalcan security officers.

"Lard Nar?" Red asked in disbelief, crimson gaze vaulting from Pem to his brother's terrified face trying to stutter out a coherent sentence. "Why are you doing this?"

"W-What are you doing here?!" Lard Nar took a step forward but Red remained gently firm, swallowing down his betrayal. "P-Please! I know this looks terrible, but I have my reasons! C-Can we sit down and talk about this?"

"I told you to stay away, Tall guy." Pem followed defensively, glaring up at Red from within his stained, kingly cloak as Purple fell in to his partner's side, smirking when an officer grabbed Pem around the shoulders and wrestled him wildly to the ground as he fought and thrashed against the sudden weight his new, still developing muscles weren't prepared to combat. "Wait! Let me go! You're making a mistake!"

Lard Nar froze when two guards approached him with a set of electronic cuffs, looks of intense sorrow lacing their eyes and wordlessly motioning for him to turn around and put his hands behind his back. He didn't move, staring up with a look of dumbfounded terror at his two best friends trying to hold it together through the incredible weight of soul-crushing agony that it was taking for them to watch someone so close, so infinitely special to them and the Empire be thwarted from his position at the drop of a hat.

"Red, Purple, please, listen to me!" He tried again, pleading desperately with his friends and shrinking into himself when they caught sight of the massive smeeting machine towering over him in the background. "He's a…he's a clone."

Red squeezed his eyes harshly shut and bit his tongue in bitter, repulsed regret, yanking firmly away from Purple when he opened his mouth to say something and forcing his way through the incoming wave of officers carting Lard Nar's hired engineering and science team by in glowing cuffs as the cried softly and sniffed to themselves in thick, unmistakable dishonor and lucid shame.

Lard Nar tried a final time as Red punched the button, not listening when Purple moved forward to whisper something hotly against his antennae and only growing more irritated when his husband completely brushed him off. He swallowed, calling out to his deepest, closest friend as he stepped into the pod and turned to stare above him at the far wall.

"Red please! I-I did everything I could for your love! Please help me with mine!" Lard Nar was begging at this point, trying to force himself away when the two guards moved in and each grabbed him by an arm to force him into compliance. "Red! I-I'm your King! I-I'm your _brother_!"

Red blinked and finally met his gaze, all usual warmth and cynicism gone from his voice to be replaced by something acrimonious and decrepit. "You're not my brother anymore."

"King Lard Nar, you are hereby under arrest by order of the Vortian high court for aiding and embedding the wanted war criminal, Pem Goor. May Vort have mercy on your soul."

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Oh man this was a fun chapter to write! Hope you guys enjoyed and I hope you have a great rest of your night! Thank you for all of your support my lovely angels! (collective hugs)

_**Next Update: Sunday, December 15, 2019 at 10:00 pm CDT (UTC -5)! I hope I see you then my darlings!**_


	35. Red's Relapse

Welcome back my darlings! This is a chapter that I have been so excited to write since about chapter 27. I've had it planned for a while, and I'm so happy we're finally at this point in the story! This is going to switch back to being very Red/Purple centric, because we have basically tied up most of the Pem ends of this fic. Thanks for holding on through our wild ride and I hope you all enjoy!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO OUR READER AND MY GOOD FRIEND **KNOCK**! LOVE YOU DARLING AND I HOPE YOU HAD AT LEAST A GOOD BIRTHDAY EVEN THOUGH THIS IS LATE EVERYONE WISH **KNOCK** HAPPY BIRTHDAY IN THE COMMENTS SHE DESERVES IT!

Also, a shoutout to **x-Chappy-x!** They are so sweet and kind and I wanted to remind them that they are loved and appreciated! Thank you for liking my work, my darling, and I really appreciate you always coming back! :)

**Chapter rated M for heavy drug use, obvious allusions to overdose, brief heavy language, suggestive themes, and general adult themes. Don't do drugs kids. They're not worth it.**

* * *

"Sir? U-Um…Sir? Mr. Purple?"

Purple shot up, yelping in pain when he smacked his head on the grimy open hull of the Inquisitorian Stinger he had lost himself to, wincing at the dull sting in his antennae as he groaned. He clamped a gloved hand over his aching forehead before turning with a frown to eye his tiny assistant, Len Tarf, where he stood apprehensively with a list of clients requesting tune-ups on their ships and waiting for a response to a question Purple obviously hadn't heard in his depressed fugue. Had he let his mind wander again? He turned away in embarrassment, digging his oil slicked hands back into the perforated plasma core to dig out bits of debris the unfortunate pilot had come in contact with during an accidental flyover of a meteor shower on the outskirts of the Meekrobian star system. He flicked tiny pebbles over his shoulder with a grumble, only adding to the incredible mess of soot and cosmic fragments littering the unwashed bay around them.

Len Tarf repeated his question, carefully moving forward to hold up the list with a swallow when Purple shucked his goggles forlornly and tossed them thoughtlessly to the side. "Mr. Purple? I have a client in the office who's asking if you'd be willing to perform radiation and static checks on the core of his I-14 Irken Spittle Runner." He explained, sighing when Purple threw his elbows up on the hull of the ship and plastered his gooey hands over his eyelids, smearing thick globs of petroleum over his face. "Sir, I have to tell them something."

"Just tell them…dammit, I don't know. Sure. Ask them if Thursday is ok." Purple mumbled from between his fingers, spitting when the acidic taste of Meekrobian dust gritted between his teeth. "Thursday is the only opening I have."

"Don't you mean Wednesday?"

"What?"

"Wednesday, sir. You're booked all day for Thursday to put a fresh coat of, um," Len Tarf hastily flipped through the notes clasped in his clipboard for the agreement, "looks like ash grey paint on a Vortian Scorpion for Mrs. Palla Kar."

Purple let his hands fall away in exasperation, irritated with himself for carelessly forgetting so much dire information and cringing internally at the overwhelming amount of work he had somehow found himself in this early on after the weekend and his unfortunately botched honeymoon. It was Monday, his least favorite day of the work week and already he had been swamped by a proverbial tidal wave of fervent clients wanting him to run his expert eyes over shot spark plugs and rattling plasma cores in preparation to make the long flight to the town of Taymorc to watch the Vortian High Court subpoena King Lard Nar I for his supposed crimes against his own Empire and administration. Everyone was overly excitable and jittery in the streets, a palpable buzz hanging in the air as images of the terrorist Pem Goor's tear-streaked, muzzled face hung over every transmission screen and glittering electronic billboard for thousands of languid miles, reminding everyone of the horrors he had almost wrought against their then dying planet. Lard Nar had been taken into protective custody when the Irken population of the planet had begun to riot, moving him into a holding chamber five miles beneath the capitol of Hatalca to wait out his subpoena in regal comfort while Pem had been ripped away from his grasp to be forcibly gagged and shoved heatedly into an unclean, frigid prison cell in Taymorc until the official, incredibly depressing trial on Friday. It was strange, the Irken public claiming Lard Nar had betrayed their image and their safety by cloning the worst terrorist in the history of the now completely crumbling and defunct Irken Empire, while the Vortian half of the planet secretly looked upon Pem's face as something of a backwards revolutionary. Purple had accidentally overheard hundreds of hushed whispers as he trudged forlornly along the rain dampened sidewalks of the towering city, all calling for the release of esteemed King Lard Nar and his now bright-eyed consort from prison and somehow recognizing Pem as the single force that opened up the dastardly wave of Irken-IRM conflict that had paved the way for Vort to finally heal. Purple didn't know what to think, his tired, overworked mind swimming with possibilities and awful images of his blood brother standing before massive DNA recreation technology as he pleaded with him and his husband to hear out his side of the story. It was bruising to the soul, sickening to the stomach, aching to the head. He had known that Lard Nar was a bit unstable and constantly on the dangerous edge, remembering their earlier talks about his terrified love confession he couldn't seem to spill from his dry tongue as they reclined leisurely against Sledhob's flagship together and attempted to grasp hold of some semblance of normalcy together as their psyches unraveled in tandem. But this…this was against nature. This was an appalling abomination, a blasphemous sin shuddering through their rebuilding society and digging its long, jagged nails into the delicate hearts of millions to split their meticulously formed civilization in two uneven halves.

His brother…his friend…his family was committing the worst sin imaginable and Purple didn't know how to feel. Did he feel anything at all? Did he even have an opinion? Should he have listened to his brother's reasoning instead of going after his irate husband and trying to get him to see the light? Why? Why was Lard Nar doing this? It was like an itch that Purple couldn't scratch, prickling over his sensitive, messy complexion and making his skin crawl with a nauseating mixture of heated anger and hopeless regret for not being there when Lard Nar needed him most. Pem had shot him through the ribcage and given him the most unimaginable, white hot agony he had ever experienced, the very memory of stitches pulling ruthlessly through his delicate, once virgin skin drawing Purple towards the edge of a war flashback as he struggled to maintain his fleeting composure. He quickly shook it away and took a deep breath, squeezing his eyes shut and gripping lightly at the edge of the internal radiator of the Runner he was attempting to halfheartedly repair, willing himself to artificial tranquility as Len Tarf stood stagnant and watched with a look of concern twisting his thin mouth into a frown.

And then there was Red.

His husband wasn't taking the news of Lard Nar's "betrayal" well, first smashing their cheap glassware on the cobbles of the street in their neighborhood outside and having the authorities called on him more than once as he screamed at the top of his lungs about how everything he had known felt like it was ripped forcibly away from him. He had shredded through blankets with his sharp claws, perforated their mattress and tore away whole handfuls of stuffing to litter about their bedroom like an animal, and broken down to pathetically cry twice in the safety of the cleansing room as Purple tried to soothingly talk him down through the locked hatch. Purple hadn't seen Red this horrendously worked up since his dogfight with deceased general Hoc Nulol after the Massive was blown to bits by Pem's improvised explosives, feeling every inch of his profoundly world-shattering, blinding pain radiating up through the joint connection in their PAKs after their marriage and choking on every blubbering syllable Red had feebly cried into the nape of his neck over the hours of lost sleep they had collected together in the past three days. He and Lard Nar were incredibly close, sharing a mysterious bond of friendship that Purple had never expected in a million cycles, laughing together into all hours of the morning over old war stories, comparing past sexual conquests and snickering at the idiocy of the other when they messed up their cooking or took automated calls over their transmitters and pretended to be someone absurd. In a way, they really _were_ brothers, or perhaps closer, welded by the philosophical blood letting of Yult'nab and the harsh toils of fighting alongside one another to save their collective planets from utter destruction. Their sanctity of brotherhood had been stained and Red's carefully managed foundations had been treacherously shaken. Eventually, he had simmered down from his irate, seething fury to sit up in bed at night and stare at the far wall as he thought, Purple desperately trying to whisper loving, sweet nothings against his drooping antennae and trace away the emotionless agony with his warm palms grazing over his jawline. Red had reassured him many times in the past three days with a false, sad smile that he would eventually come around, but Purple wasn't so sure, watching as his husband struggled greatly to find happiness in the simple things he had once enjoyed as he rapidly slipped into another round of depression he hadn't felt in cycles. He hadn't cooked dinner for them, hadn't spritzed himself with the deliciously spiced cologne Purple loved to drown in, hadn't put on his favorite classical songs for them to dance to in the privacy of their room, and hadn't flown his supply routes since the arrest, sending out his team to work in his absence as the local neighborhood Vortlings and smeets tried to figure out what had happened to their favorite pilot. Purple was overwhelmingly worried about the safety and wellbeing of his once stoic partner turned icy and disoriented, running his comforting touch over Red's shoulders that morning before trying to drag him from where he had holed himself up in their bed with the blinds drawn and a thin pillow stamped over his antennae to drown out the news broadcast detailing the future trial that week Teem had been listening to in the communal room. He had pulled away his fabric shield to look him in his dull eyes, manually switching over to feel his lover's racing heartbeat thrumming deep through his PAK as Red stared back through the gloom and flashed him another forced beam before sitting up to kiss him lightly on the cheek.

_Don't look at me like that, Pur. I'm fine._

Fine.

Purple swallowed at the mere thought of the disgusting word, scolding himself for thinking something so bizarre and strenuous at a time like this and trying to remind himself that his husband was a strong, formidable force and would be alright if he returned to work for one day. Still, he couldn't shake the awful feeling that something was terribly wrong. He could feel it in his bones, feel it creeping up over every fanning nerve buzzing through his body. Lard Nar and Pem had plunged his other half into a deep, spiraling hole Purple hadn't been prepared for but was desperate to fix.

Red wasn't fine.

Purple returned to his tedious screws and bolts, thoroughly numbed to the bitter core as Len Tarf waited for an answer and finally gave up with a low, dejected sigh, settling on a time for Wednesday to see their next client and bopping off to the immaculate office in the front of the shop to relay the news as jovially as he could. Purple clutched at sparking wires and pulled them away in clumps, wincing at the miniscule jolts of familiar electricity rocketing through his gloved fingertips and grounding at his toes. He tried to focus, reminding himself to breathe every time he switched his hardware over to evaluate Red's pulse and feeling him bounce between a sickening high and a swelling, drooping low. Their future was uncertain with Lard Nar gone for the time being and unable to pay their rent with his opulent lifestyle, their family relying on Teem's self-defense classes and Purple's garage to scrap together enough money to keep them afloat as Red searched for a second job in a business that wasn't non-profit to work alongside his duties as a relief pilot and Kez quit her day job as Lard Nar's assistant to try and find something in the communications field. Purple couldn't let himself slip, holding it together for the sake of his miserable husband and his two sweet sisters as he nodded to himself and continued on with a bit more speed. They needed him, and he was determined to provide for them and keep them all afloat in the dastardly, nauseating shift in alliance they were all thrown into.

"Mr. Purple?" Len Tarf called across the bay, peeking curiously around the hatch leading to the main office as he held up a gleaming transmitter. "You have a call."

Purple frowned, annoyed that his renewed pace had been shattered once more. "Can't you take it? I'm elbow deep in grease right now!" He scolded, turning back and freezing when his little assistant's straight horns twitched back in unease.

"I'm sorry, Sir, but I think it's urgent." He said slowly, glancing to the side and holding out the device as Purple turned back with growing suspicion and shucked his gloves. "It's Mrs. Kez. She says she needs to talk to _you_."

Purple felt his breath hitch as a petrified lump formed in his throat, hurriedly moving to toss his stained gloves on the clear surface of his work bench and hastily stride across the short, messy bay to snatch for the transmitter and motion his faithful assistant on before closing the door behind him. He glanced down at the glowing screen, feeling his spooch lurch when he locked eyes with petite Kez and her pink, unnerved orbs glaring back at him.

"Purple, you need to come home, now!" She demanded before he could speak, cutting him off and opening up a mind-bending rant of unnerving realism he wasn't ready to deal with and making his head spin with a mixture of horrendous concern and disgusting detestation. "So, Teem and I were doing a puzzle on the couch because we got bored with the job search, right? And I was trying to help her feel for the pieces and we heard this weird music coming from your room, so I yelled for Red and said that I was happy he was playing his favorite songs again. Well, I didn't get any response, so I went over to check on him and he locked the door." She took a deep breath, silencing Purple once more when he tried to ask a frantic question and scrambled around to try and find his jacket through her story. "I knocked a few times and he's still not saying anything and the song on his Voyager is skipping and he hasn't fixed it so I'm getting really worried that he's done something that…t-that…oh, Vort, Purple! S-Should I call the emergency line?" She burst into tears as Purple slammed the transmitter down on his desk and fumbled to pull on his bomber before scooping it back up and tearing out across the bay.

"Wait until I get there! Len, I have to go _now_! Watch the shop!" He shouted, not waiting for a response before running out into the cold mist of the late morning, yelping and dodging a group of Inquisitorian students on their way to the Hatalca University down the block.

He almost didn't register that Kez had moved back to the door to terrifyingly knock again, trying not to cry against the heavily sinking pit in his stomach when he heard the telltale, disturbing skip of Red's favorite song on an alarming, droning loop playing in the background of the stifling, chocking air as Vortians of all ages tried to wave their cheery greetings to him before he sprinted around street corners and forced himself to keep going against the pop in his heaving lungs. He passed Torc's icecream shop, scanning the distance and interlacing his way through innocent passersby as they shouted in astonishment and yelled in frustration when he accidentally knocked heavy parcels and packages from their unsuspecting hands as he chillingly raced his way across the bustling city and broke into the semi-rural outskirts to the long cobbled path he had traveled thousands of times, noticing the soft, young tree line peak against the horizon.

Red was unstable.

Red was hurting.

This…this was a bad mix. He shouldn't have gone to work; he should have stayed and made his partner something to eat or cheered him up with corny jokes as they lazed through the afternoon.

Please.

Please be ok.

Purple scrunched up his face as he cut across yards and whole farms of shaggy beasts, feeling the first hot fringes of heartbreaking emotion sting at his frostbitten cheeks in the knife-like autumn air, clicking off the transmitter on impulse as Kez began to call out his beloved husband's name and resorting to rooting through his PAK for any reassurance that Red hadn't done the damming, body razing act he knew was already happening. He swallowed and clamped his trembling free hand over his mouth as he began to sob, ignoring the shocked questions pouring out of the pastry stands he and his partner frequented and forcing himself on despite the slow, uneven pulse bouncing back and piercing him through the spooch like another sizzling gunshot.

He…he…had Lard Nar's betrayal really pushed his partner to do something like this again? Did he feel so low that he felt he had to try and mask all feeling at all? Was he…oh, Vort no.

He could feel his husband in his PAK; cold, sluggish, disoriented.

Emotionless.

Expressionless.

Catatonic.

Purple neared the home stretch, blinded to the intense burn in his calves as he fumbled into his deep jacket pocket for his keycard, dropping the transmitter and hearing the thin screen shatter on the slick cobbles as he continued on against his better judgement.

Please.

Please.

Please.

He scrambled with the security system over the hatch to their home, frantically wiping away his tears as he scanned his identification card and leaned into the searing light of the retinal scanner eating away at his eye color before the hatch dinged out in approval and allowed him to frantically throw it open. He clambered through the archway, losing himself to his own mind-numbing fear and terror as Kez immediately bounded around a corner to grab up at his hand and force him deeper into their home. Teem had been feeling about the lock on the door, sightlessly running her skilled, shaking hands over the internal mechanisms she had managed to pop off as she picked and prodded at them with a thin wire Kez had found. Purple refused to acknowledge them through his frantic crying, yanking away from his tiny sister's light grip on his hand and pounding on the still locked tight hatch against the nauseating, soul-crushing sound of the beautiful song they had danced to at their wedding ringing over his overstimulated antennae like a haunting death sentence.

"H-Honey?" He whimpered through the frozen metal, urging Teem to work faster and squeezing his eyes shut as another horrendous, spine-breaking sob wracked his body and forced him further into the titanium as he tried again. "Please, Red, if you're holding out you have to say something! I-I'm never gonna judge you, baby, you know that and I'm always going to be here for you! Whatever you did we can figure it out together but please, just say something so I know you're ok!"

Silence.

"Red?! Please, answer me! Answer me right now you asshole!"

Nothing.

Purple felt something inside his horrified mind kick into overdrive at the lack of the comforting voice he needed so desperately, a deep seated, feral need to protect his partner washing over him and overriding his instinct to break down and cry. He gingerly reached out, taking Teem by the shoulders and ushering her away from the hatch before she could retort hotly in bewildered confusion, backing up and narrowing his eyes as he braced himself against the floor.

"Purple, you dumbass, what are you-" Teem yelped when she felt an intense rush of air kiss at her face as Purple growled out his violent willpower, lunching forward and slamming the whole of his bodyweight against the door. "Hey, hey! _Stop_! That's titanium and you're gonna hurt yourself!"

Purple didn't listen, feeling the hinges give a bit under the bruising, capillary-breaking throb in his shoulder as his joint ruthlessly popped. He didn't care; he had to get to his partner. He shouted another fervent war cry before racing forward and pounding against the doorframe, scrambling down with it when it rocketed off its hinges and dragged him to the floor with a deafening thud. He groaned, rolling over to stare up at the ceiling and collect himself as Kez screamed in blood-curdling panic and rushed around him to throw herself against the sedative high, pale body of his partner resting facedown against the floorboards in a pool of his own thick saliva. Purple rolled over onto his side and forced himself up as the world fell away, his terrified, broken gaze landing on the half-empty sedative vial discarded carelessly to the floor from within his partner's PAK. Everything seemed to move in slow motion when Kez hysterically moved Red onto his side as she bawled uncontrollably and palmed at his face as he mumbled something in an inebriated fog under his breath and attempted to open his eyes, letting them flutter shut when the light pouring into his stiflingly dark room pierced his now insipid eye color and nearly made him sick. He reached up with a shaky hand and tried to shield his face from the glare, muttering incoherent syllables in fragmented Irken as he slurred through his own disturbed, rambling cognition before chuckling weakly at something he thought he saw hanging in the air and reaching for it with trembling, frigid fingers. Purple let himself cry freely, flying forward to snatch at his husband's icy hands and stumbling over the door to pull him up into his lap as he drifted in and out of reality and threatened to pass out again. His entire body was limp and freezing, oozing through Purple's terrified grip like smooth bromine when he tried to keep his grasp over his shoulders and draw Red in to his chest in an attempt to warm him back to normal temperatures as he buried his face in his lover's neck and screamed in rasping, primitive frustration.

Red had done it.

He'd used sedatives again.

Purple hadn't been here to stop him.

Lard Nar's betrayal had pushed Red too far over the edge he had always dangerously walked since they had known each other, callously throwing him into the pit of inebriated, demonic misalignment he had fallen victim to so long ago. He had been beautifully clean for over two decades, painstakingly masking the microscopic pinprick of impulse hidden away and wonderfully cemented over by Purple's intense, blistering love and care. They had talked at length about his sedative addiction the closer their romantic relationship had become in the beginning, Purple learning that no matter how hard Red had tried to outrun his own fate, his sickening, dark addiction had always followed him like a gooey, viscous shadow of liquid agony. It hung over him every time he didn't get his way, every time he found himself at the mercy of violent war flashbacks, and every time his innermost depression crept to the forefront and ate him like a delicious, tall morsel.

"C-Call someone! Call someone!" Purple frantically pleaded, making sure Kez scrambled in the other direction as he dug into his partner's shoulders and attempted to hoist him up to his feet, only falling back down against the hard corner of their bedframe when Red rag dolled in his arms. "No, no, no, shit, Red, why did you do this? Why did you do this? Oh, Vort, please, baby, please. How much did you take? H-How much did you take?!" He whimpered on a wretched, feeble loop. He turned his partner's blue cheeks to face him, searching him for a long while and trying to see through the thin string of saliva dripping down his chin. "Sweetheart, can you hear me? I-I need to know how much you took!"

Red's answer wasn't articulate, a smeared out mixture of incomprehensible low Vortian songs he had picked up on the radio and hitching Irken speeches oozing up through his PAK memories from their past as Tallest as Purple let go of his jaw and winced in terror when his partner's cheek collided hard with his collarbone. He reached out and grabbed for the tiny medical vial on the floor, holding it up to the vivid light as Teem stood in dumbfounded shock in the doorway, hands outstretched and waiting for someone, anyone, to guide her on to a stable rationality as her wife called the emergency services in a fervent panic.

Red had swallowed down just over half of the gooey, sweet liquid before he collapsed in his own tears and self-loathing, taking fifteen times the allotted dose needed to soothingly removed aches and pains from the body in the event of harm, rendering him completely fried to the world and searing his biological braincells to dust as he lolled against his sobbing partner's petroleum stained chest. Piercing, intense sirens sounded in the distance as Purple planted a tear streaked kiss between Red's antennae for his own comfort, trying frantically to get his drug-laden stalks to perk from the limp tangle they had become as the emergency crews neared.

"Oh, fuck, Red, what have you done?!"

* * *

**An undefinable amount of time in the distant past;**

"There you are. Come here, you." Purple purred out teasingly, grabbing his partner by the shoulders and spinning him around where he had been reading in the Inquisitorian royal library, slamming his book down hard on the table and earning a frustrated growl from his partner's lips before it melted into something soft and sweet at the sensation of a deep, loving kiss taking him through the darkness. "It's four in the morning, Red. Are you going to come to bed or do I have to sleep by myself again because of your dorky reading habits?"

Red sneered mockingly when his partner lowered himself down into the adjacent seat, leaning forward on his elbow against the firm wood of the table and flashing him a wide, cheesy grin. "Shut up, idiot. They're not dorky." He mumbled, reaching back out for his book and feeling his frown deepen when he noticed Purple had carelessly bent the pages.

Purple snorted through a tiny laugh, blinking in the warm orange glow of the blistering fire sweltering in the massive fireplace further into the chamber. "Please, they totally are. You're such an old man." He reached out and poked Red lightly in the ribs through his silk cerulean gown, giggling when his lover batted him away and turned his back to him in his seat to resume his interesting tale. "Ugh, pay attention to me! I don't wanna sleep by myself! I want my tall, handsome man there to keep me company!" He leaned forward and ran an evocative touch over Red's arm, pouting when he shrugged away.

"Pur, this is a _library_." Red hissed in exasperation over his shoulder, gripping at the gilded cover of his book. "Don't you know how to be quiet? Let me finish reading this and then I'll come to bed with you, geez."

Purple narrowed his eyes challengingly, standing and grabbing for his chair before immaturely raking it across the floor to reverberate obnoxiously through the whole of the wide room. Someone else on the other side of the library grumbled out in irritated Inquisitorian, forcing Red to rake a humiliated hand up over his eyes and flatten his antennae in mortification, shutting his book and standing.

"Why do you have to do that?" He mumbled, terrified that the other reader huddled in the far corner would hear them again as he extended a hand for his smug, childish partner and rolling his eyes when he took it with a victory smile.

Purple led them on, entwining his fingers with Red's as they pushed through the massive, jewel encrusted door leading out of Sledhob's royal library and into the dark, dimly lit hallway of his mansion. "Do what? I was being polite and pushing my chair in." He winked when Red groaned, knowing he had won when a tiny, almost unseen smile flashed across his partner's weary face and laced his ocular lenses with amusement. "Let's go the long way. I wanna see the moons over the lake."

The long way.

Purple always took them this way when he wanted to get close, to feel Red's calloused hands trailing his body and smoothing up over his generously concealed thighs under his robes. It had become some sort of a code between them as they walked leisurely by thousands of panes of thin, glittering glass and stared out hand in hand at the gorgeous expanses of high-tech Inquisitorian cities splaying thickly up into the deep green skies of their personal nebula swimming with cosmic hues of magenta and vibrant blue. Five moons dotted the impressive lightshow, shimmering down over the artificial lake of liquid hydrogen Prime Minister Sledhob had commissioned to surround his massive gardens, peaking Purple's attention as his antennae craned forward and pressed to the windowpane to admire the millions of tiny white flower buds blooming under the pale, glorious light. Red knew he'd always loved moonflowers, always stopping to drink in the scent when they waltzed by their tightly shut bulbs during the daytime.

"Hey," Purple began, reaching out with his free hand to renew Red's fluttering attention through the peaceful, serene light. "You wanna play with me? I mean, like, play a game?" He reaffirmed, watching as Red's face immediately turned a deeper blue on impact. He leaned in, brushing his soft, warm lips against his lover's before instantly pulling away with a muted sigh. "I wanna play with _you_ this time. Let's go down to the gardens and if you can find me in the maze in five minutes, I'll let you have me."

"You really want me to chase you, huh?"

"It's not for me. I know the hunt gets you going." Purple's voice was a ghost of a whisper, barely there and incredibly evocative of something hovering just beneath the surface. "So…come hunt me."

Red let his eyes flutter shut with a wild grin, feeling his body set alight when his partner pulled away completely, fingertips lingering against his as he beamed, followed by the sound of posh black ankle boots clicking delicately over the expensive white marble and sashaying off into the distance like a siren's song that had Red begging for more. He followed the expensive, opulent noise of his beautiful partner meandering down abandoned hallways and carved marble staircases, finally passing through the unprotected, covered archway that lead out into Sledhob's prized gardens. The smell was overwhelmingly sweet and dizzyingly floral, fluttering up over Red's antennae from the myriad of exotic petals dancing in the soft breeze when he caught sight of Purple working off his luxurious soles at the hydrogen fountain glittering in the low light from beyond.

Beautiful.

Everything about him was just right; the way the glow gleamed off of the scaly kaftan he pulled away from his narrow shoulders in one fluid sweep, the curve of his PAK under his gently swaying Inquisitorian silks, every languid sweep of long, blithe limbs and thin fingers running expanses of skin to tease his partner into submission as he approached. He was a god, a dreamlike, otherworldly apparition of luscious splendor. He moved forward on bare toes through the tenderly waving grass as another gentle wind kissed their skin, meeting Red halfway and holding back when he went to sling his arms around his waist and bring their eager mouths together, flashing him a coy smile and pressing a claw to his lips.

"You can have me if you win, but you have to work for it." He whispered with delectable seduction, urging Red's ready hands away and purring when he held them out in irritated but fascinated curiosity as Purple let his palms trail up over his chest to give him a tiny sip of the delicious triumph hovering on his color-flushed skylines. "And you better win."

Red blinked, feeling the same dark shade return to his cheeks when Purple dug his toes into the spongy soil to prepare for his takeoff. "And why's that? It's not really a game if you _want_ me to win." He muttered, sighing shakily when his diffident mate grazed his perfect teeth up over his neck.

Without warning, Purple ripped away, shoving Red back and spinning on his heel to take off into the unbearably colossal maze of magnificent flowers and pearlescent rivers of pure moonlight revealing itself in languid sweeps before them.

"Because _I_ want _you_ and I wanna feel like a prize!"

Red grinned and shook his head with a hearty chuckle, taking off after his eventual forever and quickly losing himself to the shadows. He listened intently, rounding corners and bounding through shrubbery as his animalistic instincts took hold of his spooch and caused his pulse to escalate in excitement. He could faintly hear Purple's muted footsteps against the path, his claws scraping on purposeful accident against twigs and leaves to entice his lover on into the fun immaturity of their childish game. It was erroneous, but incredibly electrifying, the aroma of blooming florals obscuring Red's keen senses as his antennae twitched through the rustle of fluttering wind and the honied smell of well-rounded vanilla his other half bathed in swirling and mixing with the intoxicating fragrance numbing his mind into submission.

Purple laughed affectionately from somewhere deep in the shrubbery, setting Red's form alight with a blinding need as a peculiar growl bubbled up in his throat and he kicked off his leather boots, leaving them behind in the dusty summer soil as he continued on and connected himself back to the natural beauty of the planet they had learned to call home. He wanted Purple, but he also wanted the chase. It awoke something primal in the pit of Red's logical soul, showing him the deeply ingrained instinct for companionship they all fought for in this world and reminding him why he had fallen so madly in sweet, wholesome love with Purple in the first place. He was silky soft under his touch with a mouth and mind unlike any other, spouting out hot curses and carefully tamed, liquid praise on a dime and completely captivating Red with his unique, boisterous voice. He danced sweetly and waltzed vibrantly with Red's acute senses to keep him on his light toes and capture his animalistic fervor, daring him with his sweltering eyes and beckoning hands as he only gave him just enough of a bite to have him craving desperately for more. He was the opulent spiced wine Red liked to pound back, the untamable flicker of blue plasma radiating from the booming blast of a pistol, and the epitome of everything it meant to be a soulmate.

Purple was his soulmate.

He felt it in every bone, every heaving tendon as he raked through twigs and scented the atmosphere with quivering stalks, shooting rigid and listening intently to every minute sound as his eyes flew wide to adjust to the low, luminous light. It was tender, affectionate warfare, chess even, Red taking a few carefully placed steps only to hear them mirrored skillfully by his beautiful partner deeper into the bright green maze swallowing them and giving way to their romantic toying. Every shiny leaf and breezy petal was a page turning him closer to the end of his prized story, inching him along to the flawless expanses of scrumptious milky skin he wanted to taste, to the infinitely profound words of undying love and adoration that would be whispered tenderly against his balmy parted lips, and towards the hands that would shock him awake like a mild defibrillator when his partner's amorous gestures would stop his pulse.

"Running out of time." Purple's voice was so unbearably close, Red spinning immediately on his heel in a cloud of bursting excitement and lunging forward only to get a face full of tiny sticks and rustling plants.

He coughed with an embarrassed grumble when his partner giggled, letting him know he was watching like an omnipotent, stunning phantom from the gloom as Red kept on and kicked up dirt as he went, irritated when he lost the scent of his lover's signature perfume. He was near, Red could almost sense it, stopping once again and letting his antennae give in to the hoots and whizzing of Inquisitorian ships in the distant bustling city as he went deeper, noticing the tiny pinpricks of motion from sluggish insects and creatures darting here and there. He swallowed with a frown, craning to go deeper still, picking up on a faint, halfway concealed sigh lilting down from the eerily haunting radiance splayed above them as Red smirked with a knowing smile.

Gotcha.

He spun and reached up to the top of the hedge, earning a surprised, wholly unanticipated squeak in return as he latched on to the cheating arm of his clever partner inching his way along the top of the carefully manicured rows as he tried to make his hasty escape. He put up a rowdy fight, growling and snarling through his teeth in between giggles and untamed laughs as Red wrangled him down from his leafy throne and yelped when Purple deviously complied, letting the whole of his bodyweight flop down on top of his partner and knocking him from his feet to the hard path below. Purple pushed up first to take off and salvage the two minutes they had left, yelling in sudden surprise when Red caught him by the ankle and ruthlessly tugged him back down before pouncing lightheartedly on his back and pinning him to the stony walkway beneath them, chuckling when his partner choked on a mouthful of spongy moss as he struggled and writhed to break free but found himself at the complete mercy of his mischievous lover. Red eased back a bit with a smug blink, rolling Purple onto his back as he grinned before plopping back down over his chest to straddle him and bristling in pride at the untamable victory he had been clever enough to bring himself to. Neither of them spoke, a mess of exhausted pants and eager grins glinting in the moonlight and daring the other to go further and touch places set ablaze with lust, prompting Red's heavy breathing to hitch and reach out for a creamy white, fragile flower from afar on impulse. Purple watched him with needy, half lidded eyes, reaching up with his free hand to graze at the seam of his partner's robes as he plucked the beautiful object of his affection from the shrubbery and leaned down, molding the long stem carefully around the base of his partner's antennae and only pulling back with a breathless sigh when Purple rolled his eyes.

"You know how you said you're dorky?" He whispered through the darkness, trying to blow a fat petal from his forehead as Red scraped his long, polished claws down his sides. "I take it back. You're _soft_. A total softie!"

Red laughed anxiously, snaking a careful palm up over the newly exposed flesh of his partner's thigh as a primal, untamed need took him over. "Geez, I'm not soft so don't laugh and don't tell anyone but," he paused, mulling over how to go about explaining what he wanted to say, "they remind me of you."

"What? The flowers?"

"Eh…yeah. They're pretty. And they smell nice."

"So, you're saying I'm pretty? Gross."

"It's not gross if it's true. You're beautiful and handsome at the same time and…I dunno. Everything, I guess? You're everything I want in my life so don't ever go anywhere. I want you here forever but if you ever feel like you don't want me then- "

Purple giggled and wiggled an arm free to press a tender finger to his partner's lips, overcome by the sticky, caramelized melodiousness pouring in long strings of buttery goodness off of his lover's lips as he tried an attempt at being flirtatious but drastically failed, succumbing almost immediately back to his usual grumpy irritation when he lost his train of thought.

"You don't have to worry about that, Red. I want you more than any man I've ever met, and I'll always be your moonflower."

* * *

**A Private Room of the Hatalca Multi-Species Hospital;**

Red let his raw eyelids flutter open with a long, low groan as he was shot with a needle of Narcan, immediately feeling the delicious numbness of his coveted, needed high flood away to be replaced by an awful, nauseating clarity that he wasn't prepared for and the deafening sound of medical boots clicking hastily on tile. He hissed in agony when a portly Vortian doctor forced his eye wide with skilled fingers and flashed a searing light against his sweltering eye color, checking the cones of his internal retinas before moving on to the other and repeating the same agonizing procedure. He growled again, long and low, and threatened to bite rearing back against the medical bed his previously limp body had been slung over before blinking in delirious uncertainty when trembling, soft fingers clamped around his and squeezed.

He tried to turn, swallowing against the acidic burn in his scratchy throat as his husband leaned forward to rest his chin against the sterile guardrail of the bed as kind nurses chattered behind them and prepared a cool cloth to drape over Red's sweat-slicked forehead as he groaned. Purple reached out with his free hand when his partner's grip faltered, massaging soothing circles over his deep shoulder scar in an attempt to give him some kind of rhythmic stability through the nausea and swimming disorientation hanging over him like a violent thunderstorm. He was so thirsty, trying to ask for something to drink but feeling his drug-swamped mind fail him when the gentle hands of a dutiful aid pressed a calming, soaked rag to his forehead and moved back, turning off the lights per Purple's hushed request before closing the door to monitor their patient's vitals from the station outside.

"Flo…wer….moon…" Red managed to slur out in his remaining heavy misunderstanding, blinking away the remnants of bright light from his eyes as he readjusted to the soothing darkness and coughed, feeling a horrid headache rip through the back of his throbbing skull.

"Moonflowers? Where did that come from? I wore those to our wedding." Purple whispered, keeping up his comforting motions as his husband writhed in discomfort against the stiff sheets stifling him into oblivion. He sniffed thickly, trying to keep it together for both their sakes as Red whined and flicked his wilted antennae forward into nothing before letting them fall back against his pillow and go completely limp. "You wore rubies and charcoal and were so handsome. I'm not gonna lie, you sorta blew my mind. A-And you swept me off my feet and danced with me in front of hundreds of people even though you looked like a dumbass with cake all over your face."

Purple bit his lip at his feeble attempts to rid himself of his own creeping flood of uncontrollable grief, bringing Red's fingers to his forehead when he couldn't hold back any longer, letting go a torrent of soul-crushing, wet agony against his flaccid arm as he nuzzled into his partner's feverish skin and cried.

"I'm sorry, I'm trying not to cry! I-I'm so happy you're alright!" He whimpered, hastily bringing his husband's confused fingers to his mouth and peppering his claws with tiny, frantic kisses. "You…you almost overdosed, Red. W-Why? Why did you do that?" He knew Red couldn't answer at the moment and tried to keep his voice low to the headache he was sure he was experiencing, stroking at every bit of exposed, ashen flesh he could find as he hovered close and let his puffy, teary eyes fall shut.

"I love you. I love you so much and it's all going to be ok now. We're going to get through this together." He took a deep, broken, shaky inhale when Red tried to renew his grip on his fingers, helping him with his other hand to clasp his claws in his. "I'm not going anywhere, I promise. Teem and Kez are guarding the door so no one else comes in without permission." He thought a moment, feeling another single, scalding tear scroll down his still oil-smeared features. "I know I wasn't there for you the first time this happened back when we were young, but I will _never_ let that happen again. You're so loved, honey….so loved and we're gonna fight this together, you and I. Ok?"

He also realized it was the stress, the sheer heartbreak of losing someone so close and special to his heart that he could hardly stand the thought of dealing with his emotions in a healthy way through exploration and words. Red still wasn't good with his emotions or the processing of his own internalized trauma, hovering at a half empty mess of depressive thoughts and PTSD waiting to drain away to nothing and leave him without the gorgeous influence of serotonin to calm his battered thoughts. Purple was that, the happiness fluttering jovially through his partner's mind and keeping him stable and functioning, the anchor that consistently reminded him that he was more than his constantly simmering anger and his shady past; he was a devoted husband, a formidable pilot, a hilarious friend, and a warmhearted brother.

He was still Lard Nar's brother.

No matter how much Red denied it, no matter how much he had claimed he had brutally disowned his closest Vortian friend and forced his image miles from his hopeless thoughts, Purple knew the truth. He still loved and cared for Lard Nar deep down in his secretly sensitive soul and it was tearing his husband to thin, immeasurable shreds at the thought of someone so substantially needed, so brutally desired in his tangible reality that he had opted to pump his bloodstream full of sedatives rather than continue to think.

Purple didn't care about their gut-wrenching fight in the moment or the potential ramifications of what would happen with the whole deadly Pem debacle, he didn't even care that Lard Nar had ruined their first attempt at a sweet, amorous honeymoon.

They were family.

Family stuck together.

He, Red, Teem, Kez, _and_ Lard Nar were all family. They had overcome adversity, slander, racism, homophobia, and entire administrations attempting to rake across the cosmos and annihilate everything they held dear. Purple didn't just have his own blood pumping warmly through his veins; he held the blood of his sisters, his brother, and his partner and that meant they were bonded to one another no matter if they were blind and raunchy, overly anxious and excitable, reanimating dead corpses for fanatical love interests, or pumping their system full of damaging, nerve-eating drugs. They were broken, disgusting, sickening individuals with enough combined mental issues to put them all in an insane asylum. But, they were broken together.

Together…they were _all_ meant to be together.

Purple shushed Red when he continued to squirm restlessly through the woozy pain and throw high pitched moans through the dark when he tried not to pass out, reaching up and taking the now chilly cloth from his searing hot skin and running the cool liquid down his partner's flushed cheeks. He moved to his panting chest, leaning over the guardrail to plant a gentle kiss to the side of his mate's face when he began to feebly sob through the lucid feeling of weakened illness overtaking each of his exhausted extremities as his PAK hummed to rid his ailing body of the conquering amount of liquid sedative he had ingested.

"I-It…hurts…it hurts, Pur. I'm sorry…"

Purple lit up at the sound of his partner's raspy, unwell voice breaking the petrifying silence as he grappled with his excruciating comedown. Was this how it was last time when Red was still a commander in the Elite?

"Shut up. Don't be sorry for stuff like this, idiot." Purple kissed at his claws once more feeling his partner inch into the familiar sensation he craved in his liminal fear. "I'm here, Red, and I'm not gonna judge you. I-I just want you to get better for me."

Red struggled to form a coherent sentence, trying to mouth out a plead for the agony in his skull to stop as he shuddered and shivered violently under the blankets keeping him from freezing to death as he sweated out the noxious chemicals in his body.

Purple noticed, humming against his partner's trembling skin as he tried to hold back his own viscous emotion and not let them take him for his husband's sake. "Where does it hurt? Show me." He breathed tenderly, standing and wiping his cheeks when Red was able to halfway reach up and gesture to the base of his sore, excruciating neck before letting his feeble arms flop back at his side to squeeze his eyes shut and tense every muscle in his body.

Purple sang peaceful nonsense he made up as he went along, positioning himself behind the head of his panting partner's bed, letting his gentle fingers flutter down to rest against the quivering base of his antennae as he dug the pads of his amorous digits into specific pressure points and waited for a response. When he made it to the base of his skull he felt his partner groan in overwhelming relief, pressing back into his hands as if a pressure had just been lifted from his shoulders and neck to give him some semblance of tranquility and rest from the trauma he had endured. Purple kept up his impromptu massage for several minutes to pacify his mate's blistering migraine and smiled softly through the shadows as Red began to drift off, ceasing his wild writhing and agonizing whimpers and instead falling deadweight in his sympathetic hands as his breathing slowed to a manageable, less hectic inhale. He was still sweating profusely, soaking Purple's already filthy jacket sleeves as he watched the now gentle rise and fall of his chest and manually checked his pulse in his PAK hardware. Red's blood pressure was deathly low from the unwarranted shock to his system and his pulse skipped intermittently, something he was sure the nurses were carefully eyeing on their monitors outside.

It was agonizing to see...Red this unbearably sick.

Finally, he was able to soothe and lull his pained husband to some semblance of sleep, withdrawing his hands completely to dutifully preen at the feathered stalks of his antennae on impulse. He couldn't help himself, ancient instinct taking over as he ran his careful touch over each and every segment to devotedly smooth every individual hair into its proper place, glancing up to his partner's bare chest every so often to check his breathing and feeling his own terrifying, soul-crushing horror retreat back into his still anxious mind. He couldn't let Red get this bad again…couldn't see him comatose in his own saliva on the floor of the place that was supposed to herald in their domestic bliss. He would take off a few weeks from the shop and rely on Len Tarf and his capable hands to run things so he could stay home and monitor his husband's withdrawal and ensure he didn't relapse by peppering him with sweet kisses, affectionate holds, and delicious pastries. They would be ok…he had to keep telling himself that they would be ok.

As soon as they left the hospital, whenever that would be, Purple had to swallow his pride and set up a visitation with Lard Nar before his trial. He had to talk with him, had to tell him what had happened, and had to hear the side of his story he had so desperately tried to frantically yell and scream at the two before he was torn away from his love and shoved in a heavily armored ship for transport. Whatever the reason was, whatever sickness was bouncing through his tiny friend's skull, he had to talk with him.

He had to mend their family.

"Excuse me! I-I need to see Mr. Red and Mr. Purple, please!"

Purple blinked at the sound of a squeaky, tiny voice piping up nervously outside the closed hatch of Red's medical room, listening intently as Teem gently turned her down.

"Sorry, sweetie, but you'll have to stop by to see Commander Red when he's all better ok? He can't take you in his ship for a ride right now." Teem's voice was level and motherly, growing exasperated and overly hostile whenever whoever it was presumably tried to reach out for the handle and throw open the hatch. "Woah, kid! Beat it or I'm gonna have to beat you with my walking stick!"

Kez picked up the slack as Purple looked from his gently slumbering lover to the door, rolling his eyes in annoyance when the tiny voice caused his partner's antennae to twitch into the sweltering distress. "Oh, you tiny little thing! Mr. Red isn't feeling too well right now but you can come by the house when he's better to talk with him."

Purple grumbled to himself, quickly but quietly crossing the room when the wholly infuriating voice piped back up and made him want to punt whoever it was clear across the lobby for damaging the calm of his husband's much-needed, well deserved sleep.

"But I need to talk to Mr. Purple and Mr. Red! Please?"

Purple threw open the hatch and quickly shut it behind him with a soft click to avoid accidentally blinding Red to the light, letting his infuriated gaze trail down to the small blip of a nuisance holding a bundle of hand-picked flowers in her trembling hands. She was a wide-eyed Vortling, and a tiny one at that, with unformed nubs of horns poking gently from her smooth grey skin as she stared up in awe at the lanky Irken towering above her. Her deep blue eyes glistened with overwhelmed fright as she lifted a quivering arm up to present Purple with the shriveled, drooping flowers she had stumbled upon on her long trek to find them. He frowned in discomfort, stooping to her miniscule level and looking over the odd gift before taking the pathetic bundle and trying to figure out where he knew the terrified girl from. She didn't look familiar, with a thick splay of freckles tossed over her apple cheeks like stars and a creamy white dress uniform neatly pressed over her form and stained with black mud at the hem of her skirt. She was incredibly disheveled with bits of debris and dirt smeared over her face, reaching up with impulsively intrigued fingers to brush at his cheek and take away a thick glob of motor oil hanging along his jawline.

"Y-You're dirty." She said simply in a squeaky whimper, holding up her grimy finger for her to see as he straightened back up. She immediately panicked when he went to turn, throwing her arms in the air and bouncing for him to pay attention to her. "Mr. Purple! Mr. Purple! I want my Daddy!" She called in anguish, threatening to cry as Teem clicked her claws apathetically over her cane.

Purple huffed under his breath, not wanting to deal with something so trivial at such a daunting, troubling moment in his life. He stamped a false grin over his face and glared down, hoping to intimidate the little child into leaving and never returning. "Don't you have a mom to pester?" He mused sweetly, letting his improvised smile fall flat in confusion when the Vortling shook her head and grabbed uncomfortably at the front of her dress.

"I-I don't think I have a Mommy." Her lip quivered and Kez bounded forward, wrapping her in a tight embrace as she burst into a round of untamable wailing.

"Sweetie, what do you mean you don't have a mommy?" Kez whispered, running a loving touch over her horns as she sniffed and grabbed at her pink sweater. "Are you lost? What's your name?"

"N-No! I'm not lost! I looked up your house in the address book where I live and I-I came to find you because I saw on the news that…that you know my Daddy! I-I want my Daddy! Please!"

Purple wasn't following, picking at the limp petals in his hands and glancing over to where Teem had flattened her sensitive antennae to her head to try and inch away from the protruding, shrill nonsense unfolding disgustingly before them. "I'm sorry, I don't know you." Purple said slowly, wondering if he should try and call someone to come pick up the hysterical mess blubbering over the shoulder of his friend before his blood ran cold at her next statement.

"I-I heard stories from the guard that took me from Daddy that he was an en…en…en..gi..neer." She sounded out the word and rolled it through her mouth.

Purple swallowed, letting his expression fall flat in terror as his jaw went completely slack. What? That couldn't be. There was no conceivable way that was possible. He…_she_…no. No.

"How old are you?"

"I-I'm 35."

"And…what did you say your name was?"

"I-I'm Nea. Nea Gen."

* * *

Poor Red. We were mean to him this time. But, he's always recovering and I have faith that he'll be ok. I love you all and I hope you guys have a good evening, morning, or afternoon depending on where you are and what time you're reading this! Thank you angels!

**Next Update: Wednesday, December 18, 2019 at 10:00 pm CDT (UTC -5)! See you then!**


	36. Healing Scars

Welcome back my glorious angels! I know the last chapter hurt a few people, and I had some questions as to why I forced Red through another relapse in this fic. Well, I don't wanna get too dark here, but I am speaking from experience. At such a liminal, irrational, and uncertain point in his life when it feels like it's falling apart again, he turned to the only substance he felt like he control at the moment, which happened to be drugs. He didn't do it intending to die, intending to harm Purple, Teem, Kez, or Lard Nar, but he did it because it's the only way he felt in control.

Chapter flashback inspired by an idea my friend **Knock** gave me on Instagram! Thank you lovely this was very fun to write!

WE'RE SO CLOSE TO BEING DONE WITH THIS FIC. ONLY A FEW CHAPTERS LEFT AHHHHHHH!

FOR READERS OF YOU PLUS ME EQUALS THREE: AN UPDATE TO THAT FIC IS COMING VERY SOON! I HAD TROUBLE COMING UP WITH ANOTHER THEME FOR THIS CHAPTER, AND DIDN'T LIKE HOW IT TURNED OUT SO I HAD TO REWRITE IT! **LARRIMEME**, THANKS FOR YOUR SUPPORT ON EVERYTHING AND I HAVEN'T FORGOTTEN YOUR REQUEST! IT IS COMING, LOVE! :)

**Chapter rated a soft M for mention and aftermath of drug use, mention of past suicide attempt, suggestive nudity, brief strong language, potential suggestive themes, and general adult themes.**

* * *

**An undefinable amount of time in the recent past**

Red grinned eagerly to himself and snuck gingerly through the back door before gently tugging off his dusty work boots, immediately leaning into the incredibly rich scent of Purple's improving cooking further into their petite kitchen. It was late and his partner had called him a few times already to ask what was hanging him up in flight, growing progressively more irritated with each transmission message and making sure to loudly voice his annoyances through the mouthpiece at the bothersome thought of Red having forgotten their weekly dinner date. It had been Red's turn to pick up a nice sugar wine and cook something delicious for the two but, of course, duty to the planet had kept him out in the cosmos running last minute supply routes and fulfilling Lard Nar's wishes of nightly reconnaissance through the atmosphere for any foul play from neighboring empires. On his way back into orbit, Red's keen gaze had landed on something peculiar and fascinatingly bright in a distant star system, becoming wholly captivated by his own need to explore and evaluate the gorgeous flash of vivid color streaking across the sky and beckoning him on like a torch. What he found was immeasurable, incredibly vast, and more intensely beautiful than he and his team could have ever imagined.

He wanted to share it.

Hopefully, Purple wouldn't be too upset that he had missed their date to indulge him in his ethereal fantasies.

Red took a deep breath and tightened his already iron grip around the neck of the bottle slung behind his back, pumping himself up for the inevitable discomfort of frustrated looks and hands tugging away from his as he gained enough momentum to finally creep around the dull edge of the corner from the back corridor and into their kitchen. Almost immediately, Purple spun on his heel to meet him, accidentally flicking creamy cheese sauce from the tip of his ladle in the process.

"Excuse me, where the hell were you?" He snapped hotly and instantly went on the defensive, rolling his eyes when Red flashed him a tacky smile in a frantic apology and held up the bottle of cheap white wine Purple adored. He turned back to his pot, slamming the ladle down into the goopy, scrumptious mixture he had concocted and shying away when Red tried to sling an arm around his waist. "Stop it. We agreed on this, Red. Wednesdays are _our_ nights only and I don't care what you and your team have to get done! They can drop you off or something but I had to sit here and wonder if you ran into trouble. How am I supposed to know that you're just out there running around like a bachelor doing Vort knows what and not being attacked by rebel factions in the stratosphere? Huh?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you worry. Lard Nar called and had me running recon for-" Red swallowed and set the still chilly bottle on the counter with a soft clink when Purple threw an overexaggerated huff back in his direction and immediately cut him off.

"Lard Nar sent you out there?" He shook his head and irritatedly flicked off the plasma burner simmering on their outdated range. "I don't care if the Great Universal Mother herself came down and asked you. You could have said no. He has a whole royal fleet of cruisers and pilots on high alert for stuff like that and he just had to choose _you_? I know Lard Nar and I know he gave you the option. I'm not an idiot."

"Come on, Pur!" Red wavered, finally giving in to the glare piercing his resolve and pouting through the decision he knew he shouldn't have made. "Alright, alright, I may have said yes. But I already said sorry! I picked up the wine on the way and you know stuff like this happens sometimes. I'm here now and…and I wanna show you something really cool I found." He mused with an almost sincere playfulness, trying to break through the nearly impenetrable, suffocating atmosphere radiating off of his partner's bristling shoulders and punching him repeatedly in the stomach. "Please? I promise it'll be great!"

Purple brought a finger to his lips and refused to make eye contact. "Shut up. Teem and Kez are trying to sleep. It's nearly midnight you know." He added as a flippant jab, slinging himself free from his deep violet apron and chucking it carelessly in Red's direction as he scrambled to restore his husband's irate attention. "If you really think something you found in, I'm assuming space, is going to make me feel better, you're sorely mistaken. I've been all over the cosmos and I can't imagine what would be amazing enough for you to blow me off like this."

"Baby, please I-"

"Nope."

"Can I at least-"

"No."

"You didn't even let me finish. I really think if we went for a fly you'd like-"

"No."

Purple watched closely as he poured a few hearty scoops of cheesy goodness over his cheap, stale nachos, blinking in obvious disinterest as Red eyed his improvised meal closely with a deep, animalistic craving when he realized he had neglected to eat for most of the day. He tossed the spoon hard in the sink and grabbed for the pan, dumping the rest of the contents greedily over his bowl in a heated display of untamed defiance and smirking when Red's already shaky smile dipped into a disappointed frown when he realized he wasn't going to be allowed even a single bite of delectable, velvety deliciousness. Purple let his glower turn into a sadistic grin as he dipped a single finger into the glob of molten cheese and brought it to his tongue with a brazenly loud, overdone moan at the taste, carefully holding the bowl out of his partner's way when he tried to lunge forward and grab for a crunchy chip with ravenous hands.

"That's not fair." Red narrowed his eyes and tried again with a hiss, grumbling when Purple leaned back over the counter and slammed a palm up into his husband's jaw to keep him at a distance. "Are you just gonna let me starve?"

Purple chuckled, warming into the hilarity of his partner's desperation and reaching for another salty chip with his teeth, accidentally letting it slip to the floor with a splat when Red resorted to his delicately shrouded plan b. He moved down with his free hand and raked his fingers up behind Purple's back, sending an electric shock rocketing up his spine as he giggled on instinct and clamped his mouth shut to keep from making the same noise again as Red beamed and continued his childish assault on his vulnerable senses. He had him cornered, backed dubiously against the edge of the metal countertop as he deliciously teased his body into submission, digging into all the right places to force happy, overstimulated tears to prick involuntarily at the corners of Purple's eyes as he fell into an overwhelming, boisterous laughing fit, trying to squirm away and slamming the bowl down as Red forgot about it completely and grew invested in his ticklish mate instead. Almost on impulse, Purple went limp as liquid and expertly evaded his partner's hands, ducking under his arm and tearing impishly through the kitchen to their main living quarters as Red gave chase. The two forgot why they were fighting completely, instead letting primitive, ancient emotion and the ingrained Irken need for competitive fun take over their once rational senses as they flew into a standoff. Purple had wiggled his way behind their plush loveseat, gripping lightly at the top of the spongy fabric as Red reached up with leisure hands to unhurriedly unbutton the front of his formal crimson jacket and toss it to the side for better ease of movement, not once breaking wide eye contact with his partner as he flicked his antennae forward into the exciting, delightfully challenging scent oozing from his chest and tinging the atmosphere with the musky smell of their primordial games.

Red felt a deep, low growl bubble up in the back of his throat as Purple crouched lower with a wide, cocky grin, obscuring half of his face behind the loveseat as he stared out longingly for the courtship fight that was to inevitably come. He grumbled in response, almost beckoning Red on as he dug his claws deeper into the already torn up top of their once pristine loveseat razed from their many animalistic love fights, raking along the fabric in smooth languid sweeps before yelping and disappearing completely as Red lunged forward and rocketed himself over the front, knocking aside cushions and inelegantly clamoring over the billowing top. He felt his feet hit the floor, immediately overtaken by a mess of tangled limbs and snarling laughs as Purple opened up fierce hand to hand combat, gracefully evading lighthearted punches and dipping underneath softened swings before pouncing forward and grabbing Red around the waist to knock the precious air from his lungs and slam him back against the far wall as he sunk his teeth delicately into the soft flesh of his neck to preserve his dominance in the moment, overturning a lamp with a deafening clatter and immediately freezing as someone further into the house banged irately on the inner walls and let loose a torrent of repetitive, screaming curses.

"Vort dammit, you idiots! I was having the best damn dream of my damn life and Vort dammit you ruined it, _again_! It's, like, the middle of the night so if you wanna get all damn handsy with your dumb ass play fighting then get your damn skinny assess outta the damn house and let me have my damn beauty rest! _Dammit_!"

Purple pulled his sharp teeth away and clamped a hand over his panting mouth as he snickered immaturely at the incredibly frustrated staccato to Teem's voice, letting up and grabbing for Red's hand to tug him along towards the back door. He smiled when his husband complied and followed, the two sneaking on their boots and throwing open the door to indulge in the bitter, sour smelling air they had come to cherish as Vort healed from its extensive damage. They raced each other across their wide lawn, laughing wildly at each other when they stumbled over newly forming saplings and greasy protruding roots, scattering tiny creatures in all directions as Red popped the main hatch to his rusted out Vortian Runner and effortlessly made the few foot jump to the main cockpit, extending down a generous hand to tug up his giddy partner.

"Ok, I'll bite," Purple teased, slinging himself meticulously over the center console and flopping down into the faded leather of the passenger seat before slinging his feet up on the dash. "What's so cool that you just have to show me?"

Red's crimson eyes lit up with an undeniable fire of excitement as he tugged the creaky hatch shut and flipped the ignition, fumbling around in between the seats for his cracked pilot's visor as the ship warmed. "Man, Pur, it's really cool. I promise it's something you've probably never even seen before! It blew my mind and you can feel it pouring through the ship when you get close!" He finally found what he was looking for, flipping the clear blue glass over his eyes and beginning his standard flight procedures.

Purple gripped at his arm rest as they idly ascended, blowing aside debris and trashcans alike and taking off in a leisure peddle through the night sky as the rest of the world undoubtedly slumbered below them. He leaned back with a soft smile at the twinkle in Red's eyes behind his mask, biting his lip in anticipation for whatever his idiot partner had let strike his difficult fancy. It wasn't every day that Red let himself become utterly captivated by something flittering about in the natural world; red giants? Boring. Supernovas? Seen it. Incredibly vast, glittering nebulas swirling with enough color to blind even the most rational of pilots? Been there, done that. Whatever anomaly was out there, whatever booming waves of raw power were shuddering off of its white hot core, Purple couldn't deny that he was thoroughly intrigued at this point.

They lazed through the idle atmosphere for a few long, drawn out minutes, Purple yawning intermittently in the tranquil peace of watching the planetary surface below as his husband hummed and manually checked every switch on his dash with careful cognition through the warming silence, only pulling away to meet his partner's hand when he reclined deeper into his seat and reached out for his gentle, wanted touch. Red sighed and toyed with his wedding ring a while, running the smooth silver under the pad of his finger as they leisurely watched the continents drift by below, speckled with millions of tiny, shimmering lights from the incredible progress Lard Nar had managed to make rebuilding their home's colossal infrastructure. Then, they gave up land altogether, drifting out amongst high forming, wispy cirrus clouds to trade craggy coastlines for smooth, glassy, obsidian seas reflecting the high blinking lights from Red's ship as it spread further than they could possibly imagine. Purple pressed his face to the glass, entwining his fingers with his partners as he watched tiny creatures skimming the pristine surface and causing barely seen ripples to glaze over the polished surface tension of the ocean he had yet to experience in person. It was so still, so calm, much unlike the turbulent oceans of Irk with their myriad of violent rip currents laughing at lost sailors and chewing naval ships to nothing. No, this was motherly in a way, cosmic and freeing as it reflected back every single star in existence and forced Purple to lose his bearings as to what was up and what was down.

"Is this what you wanted to show me? It's beautiful. I can't believe a place like this exists in a place that smells so sour." He breathed and let his feet slip back to the floor, fogging the glass with his warm breath as Red massaged a thumb back over his long fingers. "Can we come here sometime?"

"I keep forgetting you've never been to the ocean. It's really weird, actually. It's almost thick like jelly and I'm not really sure what makes it that way but it never gets cold. Sort of like a hot spring bubbling up from the mantle. We'll have to come down to the coast in the summer so you can see it." Red leaned over the console with a smile, letting it turn to a cheesy grin when Purple met him halfway and planted a slow, lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth. "And no, this isn't what I wanted to show you. I'm just getting us to the right coordinates for warp."

Purple giggled against his skin, pulling back and shivering when Red teasingly grazed the soft stalks of his antennae up over his. "What could be better than-" his voice was immediately cut off as the gravity of the cockpit slammed him down as his teasing partner dubiously punched in his discovered warp coordinates without warning, slingshotting them free of Vort's intense gravity and breaking out into the beautiful void of the cosmos.

Red planted both hands on the rickety clutch as he chuckled, enjoying the look of unwarranted shock and pale surprise on Purple's face as he guided them on past billions of streaking stars and icy comets shooting through the incredible burst of distance they had traversed in a mere few seconds. Red always enjoyed the speed, growing fanatically exuberant and laughing his way through the disorder and sweltering heat of friction slamming into his outer heating panels as the rush overtook his pounding bloodstream. It was in his DNA, a fervent need to move and jolt excitedly about through uncharted, dangerous territory and discover new peoples and planets, to map out exploding stars and rippling nebulas fluttering through his canons as he blasted through deadly asteroids in his shuddering wake. Purple adored watching Red fly and held his sizzling gaze from under the glass of his visor, forgiving his partner completely when he realized the look of glowing, absolutely radiant anticipation threatening to burst from his lips as he attempted to contain the gorgeous secret anomaly he had stumbled across with his team. It was thrilling, Red's fantastic scent of exploration mixed in with the smell of hot, electric thrusters and sweltering plasma and gripped at Purple's spooch as they neared their destination and struggled to keep the old, outdated ship level, fighting against the beautiful pull of intense gravity oozing from a nearby gas giant in the distance. They finally broke free and shuddered to a gentle, creaking stop, moving back into a leisure flutter as Red sighed in tender satisfaction and let go of the clutch completely to allow the ship to automatically stabilize, reaching over the console and motioning for Purple to climb back over and lay in his lap as he eagerly reclined the seat back. The ship took full control to keep them in position, letting hands wander and tug at leather belts as Purple struggled to sling himself over the myriad of now flashing buttons and carefully flipped switches, eventually flopping down against his partner's chest and grabbing for his hands to move them to the small of his back. He rested his head against Red's shoulder and let his jaw go slack in breathless awe when he realized the sheer enormity and rippling radiation of the cosmic, ancient behemoth that Red had expertly spotted from afar during his travels, letting himself become completely entranced with the throbbing, shuddering hues glittering through every powerful pulse jetted into the unforgiving lack of atmosphere around them. Purple felt his pulse slow as he went into a trance, moving a palm to rest against his partner's ribcage as he stared at every arching swell and rippling cascade of glowing, neon radiation arcing up from what looked like a central core before every thin tendril of luminous gas and bead of molten, formless plasma was sucked into two endless vacuums spewing pure light energy and warped time out for millions of near boundless lightcycles. He had never seen anything so powerful, so formidably potent. Not even the shuddering fear and agony of the Florpus stood up to the magnitude and heartbeat of amorphous, rhythmic emissions gently rocking their ship with every strum, halfway lulling away his joint pain and pacifying any remaining anger against his husband to dust.

"It's called a quasar." Red whispered against his stiff antennae, letting his spine melt and cradle into the backrest of his comforting seat as he purred into Purple's delicious body heat and slipped off his visor to throw it in the back seat. "My team researched it in the Inquisitorian database. That little black thing, there. See?"

He reached out with an affectionate finger and squinted with a half smile against the blinding light, swallowing lightly when Purple nodded at the fuzzy edged, circular disk in the center of the horrendously massive beast. "That's a black hole. They said it's sucking in billions of tons of gas and it's so hot that it has to release all of that potential energy and friction in the form of light energy and radiation, giving off those two weird looking streams shooting out from either end." He explained affectionately, resting his chin between his partner's antennae as they watched the gorgeous, indescribable lightshow. "I saw its light from afar and came to check it out because I thought it was an EMP explosion or a dogfight." He ran the length of Purple's PAK underneath his thin jacket as he gave himself over completely to the bewildering power of nature. "Beautiful, huh?"

"Yeah…beautiful."

They laid together for a long while, simply enjoying one another's presence and the feeling of warming fabric splayed over chests and shoulders as grips tightened and embraces developed into displays of overwhelming, tender adoration, intensified by the natural marvel continuing it's million cycle process and charming the two beyond words. They didn't need to speak, relying on the rise and fall of each other's delicate breathing and the occasional pull back to search for soft kisses and tiny smiles against cozy lips before settling back down and relinquishing all concept of Vortian time over to the loving caress of the universe shrouding them in evermoving dusk. When Red finally spoke back up his voice was hushed, mixing in with the gooey buzz of intimate tenderness and charming fingers lightly playing with the worn hem of his white undershirt.

"Sorry I missed our date night. I hope this was worth it."

Purple shook his head lightly against the familiar pulse throbbing lightly in his husband's chest, pressing his antennae to his cheek and drinking in every wavering resonance and shift in his body. "Red, you're the worst and you still have to make it up to me, but…you're also the best." He rolled his eyes at his own submission, playfully irritated with his own inability to stay mad at his partner for more than a few minutes. "I can't believe out of all of the things we've seen out here that this is one of the few we've never found." He paused, a sudden idea coming over him and making him feel cozily small. "What else do you think is out here that we haven't discovered yet? Think about it; if something this huge can hide in plain sight, what else is hiding out there waiting to be seen?"

Red thought a moment, overtaken by the weight of such a simple question as he pondered the deep, philosophical connotations behind it. "Huh. I've never thought about that." He mumbled, clinking his claws over the exoskeleton of his lover's PAK and tracing every ridge in the glossy metal. "That's kind of scary to think about, actually."

Purple blinked and frowned, unsure of what his husband meant. "Why's it scary? All it means is we'll never get bored exploring if new things this amazing keep showing up." He repositioned himself when his shoulder began to fall asleep. "I'd rather have the unknown then know everything in the universe. Our lives would be so dull."

"But what about all the bad stuff that could be out there? Sure, there's some beautiful forces at play around here, but there's also a lot that's waiting to kill us." Red pointed out, sighing in tender relief when an unbelievably potent beat of blistering cosmic dust rocked their ship once more. "If you could get rid of all the evil in the universe, Pur, would you?"

Purple immediately let a giggle slip past his lips at the absurd question, scrunching up his face when Red pushed him back just enough to glance down and meet the glowing lavender of his vibrant eyes. "Hell no. If we got rid of all of the evil in the universe, what purpose would we have anymore? The awful messes around us are what make us better somehow. They suck, yeah, but at least we can learn from them." He dialed his wide smile back a bit when Red didn't seem to understand. "Look at it this way, honey. Would we have ended up together if we didn't hate each other in the beginning? Would we have fallen in love if all of that awful shit didn't happen?"

"Probably not."

"Exactly. Evil, to me, shows me what I _don't_ want and leaves behind exactly what I _do_ want. Even if it's hard, doesn't the journey to overcome it count for something?"

"…You're scary smart sometimes."

"I know."

Red pressed another fleeting kiss to the base of his partner's antennae as they settled back down and watched the beautifully violent, gorgeously brutal energy ricochet through their neighboring star system, ignoring the ship when it went idle and turned off the light of the cockpit to leave them only with the gentle, rich spark of creamy light reflecting off of the dash and coating them in a generous heat that warmed them both to their toes. Purple reached back and blindly felt around the top compartment for the radio transmitter, smiling to himself when his fingers landed on the dial to flip it to life and hunt through the hazy, static ridden Vortian broadcasting they were somehow able to receive this far out. He turned down the volume to a low simmer and settled on something barely heard over the electronic disturbance, faintly recognizing a popular Irken singer bellowing out untamed notes in the background of their leisure, languid respite. Neither one of them wanted to return home just yet, idiotically singing together through the bad connection and snickering at the crack in each other's voices as they had little contests to try and hit the high notes neither one of them could seem to surmount.

Purple reached up and clamped a hand over his lover's mouth as he let loose an intentionally terrible cackle to the tempo of the music, going red in the face as he almost laughed himself to death. "S-Stop it! You're…y-you're ruining the song, dumbass! I actually like this one!" He stuttered, forcing his palm down when Red tried to continue his musical attack from beneath his fingers. "Irk, you're worse than-"

Purple paused, letting his voice fall flat and his eyes flutter shut when he realized what he had said, swallowing thickly and withdrawing his hand when Red also noticed and blinked, ceasing his barrage of teasing notes to instead glance idly out of the windshield.

"Um…sorry." Purple breathed, feeling his husband tense momentarily before once again relaxing completely under the soothing weight of his embrace. "I didn't mean to say it. It sorta slipped out."

"No, no, no. Don't be sorry." Red reassured hastily, noticing the growing unease on his partner's face in the bright light. "It's part of our past, Purple. We can't run away from it forever and we're still Irken. Even if we have Vortian citizenship, we can't change our race."

Purple gave a small nod. "I don't wanna change, Red, I just wish we could have gone back to Naphrus to live in your home region. I wanted to see where you grew up and have a home on the edge of the forest." He mumbled despondently, blinking in surprise when Red took him by the chin and drew him up to meet his gaze.

"Purple, who cares about Naphrus? I know it hurts, and I wanted to go home too, but that's _not_ our home anymore. You're my home. Our home is where there are people who love us." Red reminded with a faint grin, letting it widen when Purple forgot his qualms and returned it. "Quit worrying and enjoy all this for once."

"Ok."

They returned to their star gazing, staring at the blistering heat of the never-ending quasar pumping out millions of degrees of glowing plasma.

"Hey, Red?"

"Yeah?"

"...Thanks."

* * *

**Red and Purple's communal home on the outskirts of Hatalca**

Red let his eyes flutter open, happy that he was met with the beauty of serene low light instead of the retina-searing blast from a medical headlamp probing through his eyes and turning his vision inside out. He rolled onto his side with a long, tame sigh, feeling his free arm flop over the edge of the loveseat and graze the chilly floor with his claws, immediately drawing it back up to tug the swathe of blankets he had been wrapped in over his chin. He felt disgusting, traces of lingering nausea pricking at his stomach as he closed his eyes once more and repositioned himself into the cradle of the pillow someone had retrieved from his bed. The faint noise of a transmitter rang out in the background, playing old Vortian comedies on a repeated loop and providing a comforting break to the whine and obnoxious beep of pulse monitors hooked to his fingers and stamped over his skin. Someone moved across the floor, padding lightly in fluffy socks against the chill hanging in the air as the scent of warming homeopathic tea flooded the room and a dim lamp was clicked on. Red didn't move, unwilling to talk and groggy from his long, medication induced sleep, wanting nothing more than to curl up and hibernate for cycles after the intense torture he had put himself through. His mind swam with sluggish thoughts he couldn't seem to pin and every extremity down to the pads of his long fingers carried a dull, frosty ache almost as if he had come down with a terrible case of the seasonal flu. He listened off and on to the clatter of dishes and the whistle of an old teapot being carefully removed from a plasma burner, flipping to the other side every so often when the puddle of drool under his slack chin became too large and disgusting to handle. He had begun to snore lightly, feeling himself jolt awake with every overly loud rumble escaping from his sore throat before immediately drifting back off into another hour or two of soporific, balmy harmony.

"Red? Sweetheart?"

Red scrunched up his face and grumbled something under his breath that not even he understood, clamping his jaw shut and reaching up to halfheartedly brush away a gentle touch grazing up over his still limp antennae and trailing down to gingerly turn his jaw to the side.

"Red? You should probably drink something."

The same voice flooded his senses like a cooling, refreshing liquid, drawing Red to finally open his eyes and blink away the sluggish feeling of a whole day's, much-needed recovery sleep. He took a deep inhale and stretched to the best of his ability as his PAK took quick inventory of his blood pressure and toxicity, immediately wincing at the feeling of a deep bruise in his forearm from the IV that had been forced into his vein the previous afternoon. He came to when his hardware deemed him healthy, finally recognizing his surroundings as his own home by the motif of pale crimson and lavenders dotting the walls and the impressive collage of photographs Purple had snapped of them around the capitol hanging up on the wall. His husband had been reworking it, inching in amorous wedding photos and tugging down frame after frame to rest them against the floorboards as his artistic vision took shape. His still bleary, excessively dry vision landed on the tall, devoted figure kneeling at his side over the edge of the couch, letting his eyes focus on the two wide violet orbs staring back at him through the morning light. Purple looked exhausted with deep rings under his eyes and chapped lips, hinting to his partner that he had probably stayed up through the whole of the night to make sure Red wasn't left alone and carefully monitor every twitch of his antennae and hands.

Purple grinned in affectionate releif, holding up a piping hot mug of mint tea he had brewed to soothe his husband's aching stomach, helping him to slowly sit up when he groaned and passing him the soothing cup of herby goodness. He made sure Red took a sip before nodding and pressing a quick kiss to the side of his cheek before standing and moving his palm to his forehead to test his temperature.

"Thank Vort you're not hot anymore. For a few hours there, you were like a furnace and we could have probably heated the whole house on your face alone. We brought you home last night and you were sorta out like a light so I set you up on the couch." Purple explained genially. "You drink that and I'll go make you something easy to eat." He suggested, turning and striding back towards the kitchen in his long fluttering cardigan before Red could find his voice and rustling through plastic packages and tin cans for just the right comfort food to make his ailing lover feel better.

Red sat in silence, staring down at his lap through his blankets as he grappled with what had actually happened over the noise of Purple rummaging about the kitchen like a packrat. He traced the lip of his steaming porcelain mug, taking another sip of the scalding, sweet concoction his other half had been kind enough to lovingly prepare for him and feeling it immediately help the dull discomfort in his abdomen and pacify some of the pain left in his back. How had he ended up here? He glanced back up, immediately noticing that Teem was snoozing in their joint armchair with Kez draped messily over her lap and her cane held expertly between her legs as she propped herself up on her elbow. He sighed, immediately feeling an incredible, blistering guilt sear through his chest when he noticed the sedatives had been removed completely from his PAK to prevent him from any kind of temptation. He felt profoundly unclean, drawing his arms in to his chest to grasp at the handle of his cup as he heard the stove warm once more and his husband call out to him from the other room.

"Red, that better be gone by the time I get back in there. You need to drink it whether you want to or not."

Red felt a tiny smile threaten the corners of his mouth but fade as his depression resurfaced in waves, bringing his tea to his lips and swishing it through his mouth to get rid of the awful metallic taste that lingered over his tongue and made him want to fervently brush his teeth. He had done the irreparable; he'd tarnished his image in the face of his closest friends and his partner, and there was no walking away from that kind of slip up. But, it wasn't just a slip up was it? Red could hazily remember sitting on the edge of their bed after Purple had left for work and crying at the thought of himself so worked up and low over something as trivial as losing someone from his life. He had lost thousands of friends in his ferocious, undomesticated lifetime to the horrors and toils of violent war, base transfers, and merely growing so different that they moved apart. He had absolutely detested Lard Nar in the beginning, labeling him as nothing more than a pathetic weasel and a failed terrorist bent on undermining the regime Red had worked so hard to build up under his authoritarian claws but now, he couldn't imagine himself without the little Vortian anxiously talking his way through his life. Lard Nar had failed as a terrorist because he was kind at his core, a philanthropist dedicated to providing everyone a place to call home with wide eyes gleaming behind his prescription goggles and a genuine smile twisted up over his face as he shook the hands of those he had saved from homelessness. He had a way about him that was amiable and cozy, radiating an anxious compassion that Red wanted more of and absolutely ached for now that he could no longer feel it near his grasp. They were immensely close, bonding over a mutual depression, love of delicious junk food, a zeal for exploration and wartime advancement, and clicking in ways that he had never expected. They had survived battle together, fended off whole regimes, and Lard Nar had given him and his beautiful mate a stable, accepting home to finally call their own and feel safe in for the first time in their long, desolate lives together. He couldn't lose that. No matter what Lard Nar had done or who he had brought back from the dead, no matter how many people hated him at the moment and wanted to burn down his mansion in a firefight, he was still his brother.

He was his brother through the blasphemy.

He was his friend through the misery.

He was his family through the abandonment.

Red was infinitely bothered by his friend's decisions and deeply unsettled that he had snuck behind their back to perform something so intensely murky and erroneous, but he was still family. There was no doubt in his drug-laden mind about that. Unfortunately, it would be a long while before he would be able to work up enough gall to face his brother in person. The hurt and pain of overpowering heartbreak was too great, tearing Red in two and reminding him of the callousness of the universe; he couldn't see him after that.

Not now.

He sunk deeper into the couch to finish off his tea, letting Purple take the mug from him in exchange for a bowl of hot soup instead, watching his partner closely as he made his way back into the kitchen for a third time and nearly tripped on the slick floor in his soft socks before resurfacing around the corner with a genuine smile and plopping down next to Red on the loveseat to flip mindlessly through transmission channels like all was normal in the world. Red stared at him in unsure silence for a long while as a characteristic boredom flooded over his features, flashing in the light of their wide transmission screen as he scrolled over horror films and romantic comedies, settling on a stupid, mind-numbing talk show with a host neither of them recognized interviewing an overinflated actor big on Vort at the time.

"Eat your soup, baby." Purple yawned, slinging an arm up around his shoulders and returning to his show as Red's frown deepened and he took a tentative, unconfident bite.

There was no anger, no yelling, no disheartening hopelessness thrown back in his face over the soul-crushing high he had itched to bring himself to like he had expected to receive. He had been terrified out of his mind the moment he swallowed his second thick sip of gooey sedatives that Purple would realize just how broken he was inside and callously regret their marriage, leaving him behind in his own pathetic dust to wallow out the rest of his days in drug dens as he slipped further and further from the straight edge he had walked for nearly two decades. Instead, he was met by a gorgeous, much-needed normalcy that had him returning to the beauty of daily domestic life. Purple had met his relapse with bottomless love and care, beautiful affection, and an overwhelming support that had Red unsure of what to think, folding desperately into the featherlight kindness of the gentle touch swiping over his shoulders as he held back his tears and continued to sip on his meal. He hadn't meant to take anything in the first place, unsure of how it had really happened through his overly emotional fog and discreet rage piling up inside his worn thin psyche at the dramatic, heartbreaking shift in his life. Usually, he could keep everything under control and breathe through the pain, working himself back down every time his fingertips twitched and his skin crawled with the undying need hovering in his PAK memories to swallow down everything that would keep his unbearable demons and traumatic beasts at bay.

This time…he just broke.

He just broke.

He could remember the urge becoming so unbearable that it had turned into a psychically excruciating stab through the back of his skull, clawing open the main panel of his PAK with his mechanical legs and digging through the internal medical compartment to pound back the damming sedatives that had made him so agonizingly sick for temporary relief from the insufferable hurt deep in his mind.

After that was pain.

White hot, searing, flesh melting pain when every muscle in his body tensed as he lay near comatose on a hospital bed with his partner sobbing hysterically over him and clutching at his hands as he writhed and cried out. He shook the horrendous memory from his mind when the same hollow fear overcame him like a tidal wave, crashing down and instantly receding when Purple leaned in and gently rested his head against Red's shoulder as he ate.

"Purple?" Red managed to mumble through his hoarse voice, feeling a single, scalding hot tear fall to land against his chilly cheek as his partner noticed and wiped it away with his lips. "I…I don't know. Never mind. Forget it. I-I don't know what I was going to say."

Purple reached out and took the half empty bowl from his partner's hands before snaking his arms down and leaning back, dragging Red down with him as he cried feebly in the low light and holding him close as he shuddered into his hold. He reached down with his free hand and retrieved the soft blanket from the floor, slinging it up over his partner's body and moving to wrap his hands around his abdomen to lightly massage soothing touches up under his shirt against his now flushed skin when the lucid feeling of woozy sickness in his stomach returned. Purple hushed him, tangling their feet together for warmth and smiling when Red took a deep, shuddering breath and attempted to calm himself.

"I didn't mean to, Purple. Fuck, I-I didn't mean to! I-I'm sorry!" He let another sob wrack his shoulders and sighed into the stark contrast of his partner's amorous, tender hold from behind slowly blotting away his agony. "I-I promise I didn't mean to! I-I was stupid and I completely fucked everything up! I tried not to take it but it just...it just _happened_!"

"You're not stupid." Purple hummed consolingly under his breath, creeping up to rub over his husband's spooch and exorcising some of the crushing weight sitting on his chest. "I'm not gonna lie, you scared me. I thought I was going to lose you but," he leaned in and brushed his chapped lips over the back of his partner's neck, "I don't blame you for anything. It's not your fault, Red."

Red couldn't believe what he was hearing, rolling over onto his side to face his partner as he searched his face for a long while, freezing a moment when Kez shifted slightly in her sleep and nearly fell from her wife's lap. "What?"

Purple frowned, confused at the sudden shock. "Um…what, _what_?" He repeated again with an airy chuckle when Red stared back in dumbfounded amazement. "Oh, you mean me saying it's not your fault? It's not. I don't want it to happen again, but I also know that addiction is an illness so-"

"You're not going to leave me?" Red breathed in teary disbelief, feeling every tendon in his excruciatingly strained body go slack into his partner's delicate arms when he drew him back in close for another embrace. "You wanna stay with me even if I'm messed up?"

Purple giggled and rolled his eyes playfully with a firm, resolute nod. "Oh my Vort, Red. You think I would leave you after all we've been through? We've been shot at, blown up, spat on, exiled, and," he paused and captured his partner's mouth to press his point, "we've built an entirely new, almost perfect life together. We have a house, good friends, eat good food, have a ton of amazing sex, and you make me happier than anyone I've ever met, so stop worrying about nothing. A bit of drugs won't keep me from loving you."

"W-What if it turns into a…um…a _lot_ of drugs?"

"It won't."

"How do you know? What if I can't help myself in the future? What if I-"

"I know because you're strong. You're strong, you're loved, and you have me to keep you in check." Purple reminded teasingly, prodding Red lightly in the ribcage as he searched his face and followed every curve of his cheeks and sharp angle of his jawline. "I don't give up without a fight and I sure as hell won't let you beat me. I have a reputation to keep up."

Faith.

Purple had faith in him.

Red laughed through his tears at his husband's idiotic joking, letting his emotions flow freely against his chest as he bit his lip and tried to keep his shaking voice quiet. He had struck absolute gold in finding a husband like Purple, the gravity of his words shattering his insecurities like a wrecking ball and scattering the shards of his own internal struggles to the aether around them as they snuggled down together. It didn't matter to Purple if Red was fragmented like he claimed so fervently in his own panic that he was, pushing the very notion of him being anything but a gorgeously formidable, handsome commander from his mind. He was still shaken up from the entire ordeal, thinking for sure that Red had gotten through and recovered completely from his past addictions and shadowy demons, but realizing that this was just something else they would have to work through together as a couple. He wouldn't let Red do this alone, wouldn't let him suffer in complete silence, and wouldn't let him undergo another agonizing, unbelievably devastating high on the floor of their bedroom. He was so much more than a recovering addict; he was a powerful ace, a charitable relief pilot, a beloved member of the local community, an adored brother, an avid fiction reader, and the wonderfully angry nuisance that had captured Purple's beating heart within his claws and held it close to his.

He was Red; and if Purple knew one thing about his husband, it was that he was a fighter, and he could fight this.

"Ugh, you smell bad though." Purple scrunched up his face and giggled when Red flicked his antennae down to scent at his shirt, sticking his tongue out in disgust at the absolutely revolting scent clinging to his skin. "Probably all of that nasty stress sweat. Let's go shower."

Red tried to push himself up, finding his aching muscles straining to give out beneath him as Purple wiggled around from behind, standing and popping his back before helping Red to sling his arm up over his shoulders and slowly stand as he put his weight into his partner. Purple laughed again when Red threatened to drag them both down, slowly helping him trudge weakly across the floor and down the long corridor towards their cleansing room. He managed to work open the hatch with one arm, gingerly guiding his venerable mate over the tiny lip of the door and into their stark white, uplifting bathing chambers before propping him up against the wall and hurridly working off his warm knitted clothing before tossing it messily in the far corner.

"Why can't we take a bromine bath?" Red asked, careful not to slip against the tile as he tried to shuck his own undershirt to no avail.

Purple padded over, helping Red to carefully bend forward as he pulled him free of his reeking clothing and set to work on his fabric belt. "Are you kidding me? I'm not sitting in the bath with you and floating around in all of your grossness." He mocked almost too sincerely, working his partner free from his crimson slacks and tugging them down to his ankles to help him step away. "I'm scrubbing you clean, Red. I feel like as filthy as that hospital was and as much as you sweated last night you need to shed a whole layer of skin before you're back to normal."

Red went to protest, growing irritated when Purple removed the rest of his clothes and ushered him on to the edge of the cleansing pool before striding to the cabinet and throwing it open. He hunted about for a few seconds, halfway disappearing over the shelf as he searched and finally hummed to himself in delight, pulling out a detachable showerhead they all rarely used but kept regardless for when Lard Nar was over and was too picky to use the pool.

"What are you waiting for? Get in while I set it up." Purple halfway commanded with a chuckle, stooping to the edge of the pool and popping free a connection hose as he hooked the chrome plated head to the end. "Man, you'll probably feel good as new in a minute." He passed the hose down and slung himself over the edge of the chamber, slinking down and working the knobs to turn on the flow of warming, absolutely delectable bromine.

Red yelped in shock and shivered when the first icy burst hit his skin, Purple cackling at his suffering and immediately snatching back the hose to move away the stream and let the rust-colored liquid heat to a scalding, steamy deliciousness. "You awake yet?" He laughed obnoxiously at the dripping, trembling mess his other half had become, only picking up his mirth when Red shot him an annoyed look of shock and frigid exasperation. "Don't look at me like that I didn't mean to and you know it. Sit down, you big smeet."

"Yeah, yeah, give me a sec."

Purple tested the now perfect bromine with his fingers as Red sat on the porcelain bench at the edge of the bath, first running the cascading waterfall over his own form before gently turning it on his husband as he leaned back and wanted nothing more than to drown in the utterly scrumptious sensation of tropical ease hitting his freezing skin and waking up every sluggish cell in his body. Purple urged him to hold the jet, reaching over for a homemade bar of herbal soap Kez had figured out to how to melt down in her vast amounts of free time, lathering it generously between his hands and squishing Red's cheeks in between his palms without warning to harshly scrub him down. Red grumbled in irritation at the jarring treatment, knowing it was for his own good and hissing under his breath when Purple accidentally grazed his sharp claws down his shoulder and let up, continuing with a kinder tactic and unhurriedly working down the length of his body. It started to feel nice, every speck of sterile hospital scent and drop of sticky sweat flooding away at their feet as Purple preened every single one of his partner's claws, washing them throughout with his fingers and enthusiastically moving on to Red's antennae when he leaned forward and pressed his forehead into his lover's bare stomach. He let his eyes flutter shut, purring into the gorgeous weight of his horrendous mistake draining away to the Vortian sewer system to never be seen again, a proverbial cleansing of his weary soul as Purple gently rolled the feathered ends of his antennae between his skilled hands, soaping them with copious amounts of sweet smelling herbs and spices and reaching down to cup a palm under the sluggish jet before splashing his husband's feelers with liquid happiness. He felt it run down the sides of his bubbly face, two gentle hands moving away to smooth down the back of his neck and carefully wash the seam of his PAK. Everywhere Purple touched, Red felt himself coming back to life, easing into the gorgeous realization that he truly wasn't alone in this world and never had been. As soon as he met Purple on the Massive, they were destined to save one another; Purple had saved him from his soul-crushing depression and agonizingly sick drug fueled crash course, and Red had saved Purple from an inevitable life of shallow, cold loneliness and horrendous misunderstanding or even death for his concealed life living in the closet. They had saved each other then as soon as their first angry, hate-filled argument erupted in the belly of the ship, and they were continuing to perpetually save each other to this day. That's what Purple was...safe. He felt safe and protective, shrouding Red in a healing, non-judgmental light that brought him back to the reality he had missed.

"Mm…'s nice." Red managed to slur out through the warmth threatening to lull his tired eyes back to sleep before Purple gently raised him back up to work on his front.

"At least you'll smell better this way, you dork." Purple harassed affectionately, frowning when he noticed a deep bruise over his partner's chest he hadn't noticed before. "Geez, honey, what did you do?" He asked, grazing his fingertips lightly over the long, straight mark and pulling back to continue when Red glanced to the side in humiliation.

"I…fell on the corner of the mattress box when I passed out I think."

"We're getting a new one, then."

"What? Why? We've only had it for a few months and they're guaranteed a lifetime."

"No. We're getting a new one because _I_ said so." Purple remained adamant, moving to his lover's shins and glaring up at him as he fervently nagged him about tiny things beyond his control. "If it's guaranteed a lifetime I don't wanna be old and decrepit one day and falling forward to smash my everything against that. That could kill one of us when we're in our 900s."

Red leaned back as Purple made his way back for the soap, working on his own body as he hovered protectively over his spent, but now completely clean, partner relaxing beneath him and watching him with keen interest. "You worry way too much about stupid stuff." He grumbled, letting his eyes trail instinctively down to Purple's closed slit, immediately turning away as his face flushed with color when his partner laughed and shook his head in amusement.

"Oh, no. None of that for you for a while." He leaned down and peppered a few quick kisses to the side of his partner's pouting face before tugging away the hose and showring himself off. "The doctor said no strenuous exercise for at least two weeks, so you'll just have to wait. It'll be incentive for you to be good."

Red smiled and opened his mouth to respond, immediately clamping it shut when a tiny knock sounded at the hatch followed by an angelic, sickly sweet voice had never heard before.

"Mr. Purple? C-Can I have some juice, please?"

Purple panicked, clamping a wet hand over Red's mouth before he could yell out to the unwanted intruder, eyeing him dangerously and mulling over how to deal with the situation he hadn't yet told his exhausted partner. He bit his lip and gave a slow blink of defeat before turning back and trying to muster up as much compassion as he could when he realized he couldn't hide the tiny Vortling running his home any longer.

"I'm in the bath! Mrs. Teem and Mrs. Kez are sleeping on the chair in the other room! You can wake them up and ask them to get you some!" He called back, freezing with a fake, nervous grin when Red stared him down in bewildered confusion from behind his fingers.

"Thank you! Oh. Mr. Red isn't on the couch anymore."

"I-I know! He's here with me!"

"Really?! Can I meet him?! Can I, can I,_ can I?!_"

Purple was growing exasperated, pulling away from his husband's mouth and raking his hand over his eyes with a groan. "Nea, you can meet him when King….when King Lard Nar gets here." He squeaked out quickly, nearly setting Red up the wall as he shot forward and almost slipped against the bottom of the cleansing pool, stabilizing himself when Purple reached out to grab him by the elbow.

"What the hell do you mean when Lard Nar gets here?" He hissed under his breath, clutching hotly at Purple's shoulder as he remained silent and continued to frantically hush him.

"Go get your juice!" Purple called a final time, waiting for the telltale pitter of tiny, needlelike feet skittering against the chilly floor and Kez's excited voice waking up in the other room. "Ok, honey, listen. I called Lard Nar's team and he's allowed to come and talk with us as long as his guards are here with him." He explained hastily, hoping if he ripped off the bandaid, Red would be more apt to accept what he had done under his antennae.

He was wrong.

Red lowered himself back down and threw his head in his now unsteady hands with a long, low moan of unabridged disappointment. "I can't believe this. Is that a…_kid_?" He sighed in distain, shooting daggers back up at his jittery partner as he continued to clean himself off. "Pur, why the hell is there a kid in _our_ house? I thought we agreed we weren't adopting for another 20 cycles! Even then, I'm not ready to be a dad! T-This is crazy!"

Purple hesitated, not wanting to stress out his already unwell husband but knowing it would only be worse if he remained silent. "She's not ours, Red! Ugh, fine. She found us in a public address book in the main Vort database or something and ran away from the children's home she was at to come and find us. It's a long story and I don't wanna get into the whole thing until Lard Nar is here." He paused, letting the strange, utterly bizarre information sink in as Red tried to deduce the significance of her presence and why her name sounded so disgustingly familiar. "She…eh…she's Pem's daughter, I think."

Red nearly choked on his own tongue, lurching forward and grabbing Purple by the wrist to drag him down to his level as he yelped and dropped the showerhead, looking him directly in the eye as he spoke slowly and methodically through the remaining fog lingering in his mind. "You mean to tell me we are giving the daughter of our worst enemy _juice_?" He growled irately, feeling his blood pressure spike. "You let her in here?!"

"She's his _adopted_ daughter; they're not blood or anything." Purple corrected, yanking away and retrieving the sputtering hose before sitting next to his fuming husband and gripping lightly at his soaked knee. "I didn't have a choice, Red. I wanted to call the authorities in Hatalca to take her somewhere but every time I tried to she kept screaming that I was trying to hurt her. You know how bad that would have looked? Security always believes the kid." He flicked off the bromine with an irritated huff, no more excited about their predicament than Red. "I had to bring her back here because she's insisting we take her to Pem."

"How the hell does she even now Pem is her dad?" Red struggled to stand, again latching onto Purple's smooth shoulder for leverage as they cautiously ascended the shallow steps together. "I don't want her here! I'm not going to babysit some terrorist's long lost freak of a Vortling, and we sure as hell aren't taking her to Pem in prison! And I don't want Lard Nar here either! He's the one who caused this whole mess with my…problem." He trailed off, pacifying a bit of his anger as he remembered he needed to remain stable and keep himself from getting worked up.

"I guess some guard told her about him. Like I said, it's a long story and one I'm not really sure I believe. Don't worry, I'm planning on giving her over to one of Lard Nar's guards so they can take her back to the home she came from." Purple whispered, careful not to over speak in case tiny horns might be listening. "As for Lard Nar, I'm still incredibly pissed and will never forgive him for what he did but you two need to have a serious talk. I don't care if you make up, fight, whatever. You guys need closure because if you don't get it and he goes to prison, it'll eat you alive forever."

Purple padded back to the cabinet, to retrieve a towel before crossing back and slinging the plush fabric up over his partner's shoulders. "Please, Red? He needs to see what he's done to you and you need to tell him what you feel whether you like it or not. I know you, and you're never going to let this go unless you have this chance." He rubbed at his arms through the fluffy material, examining his lover's expression carefully as he grew incredibly nervous and distant to the unwanted idea. "Please do this for me?"

Red's gaze snapped back up to the captivating, bottomless lavender melting him into submission as another round of deep, bottomless sadness overcame him. Did he really have to face his friend now and try to mend the scars they had beaten into each other? He was barely out of the hospital and Purple thought it was a good idea to pit them against one another and force them to have a rational conversation? Well, maybe...maybe he had a point. Lard Nar would be more apt to listen if he knew that Red had experienced another nauseating, harrowing relapse, so maybe they could get their point across quickly and get him out of their house for the trial forever.

Would he want to talk?

Would he be _willing_ to talk?

Did Red really want him...gone forever?

He returned his quickly wandering thoughts and deepest memories of the two back to Purple, feeling his hand land on his cheek and reaching up to meet him on instinct, clasping his fingers into his skin as they twitched against him and patiently waited for an answer.

"If you don't want him here, I can always tell him to go. It's not too late to do that. I just thought that you would be able to heal if you could say what was on your mind."

Red heaved another sigh, releasing all of the anxiety, inhibitions, and chilly, revolting anger bubbling up in his chest as he leaned back in and rested his chin against his partner's nude shoulder.

He was right.

Purple was always right.

"Ok…I'll...I'll talk to him. But after that I want him gone and out of my life forever."

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Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! It was really fun to write because of all of the little cute fluffies sprinkled throughout, and I like that the infinite wounds between all of these characters are finally being allowed to heal. They've all come so far. Thank you guys so much! We're almost to 300 reviews and 13,000 (YES THAT MANY) views! It blows my mind every time I look at my stats. I…I can't thank you guys enough. Even if it seems superficial, it warms my heart to see you guys like my work and at least get some kind of enjoyment out of it. Thank you all so much and I love every single one of you!

_**Next update: Sunday, December 22, 2019 at 10:00 pm CDT (UTC -5)! See you then my angels!**_


	37. Eye for an Eye, Tooth for a Tooth

Welcome back my lovelies to our next episode! I appreciate all of the comments and read throughs you guys have given this fic, and I'm really happy to hear more than one of you say this is the best RAPR fic you've ever read. That means so much to me and I hope that I can continue to deliver good top-notch content for you all! I love you all angels so much!

Chapter unbetaed. I still don't have a beta reader, so there may be minor spelling, grammar, or punctuation mistakes. I will be going back through and editing this chapter after it is posted. Thank you!

**Chapter rated M for graphic depictions of blood/violence/body modification, brief heavy language, allusion to mental disorder/illness, allussion of past suicide, and general adult themes.**

* * *

"I can't get it open!"

Lard Nar glanced over from where he had been flanked by two massive guards, each eyeing the shackled prisoner sitting in the tiny Vortian runner across from them all. Pem struggled a few seconds with the colorful package in his hands as his electronic handcuffs clinked against his skin, resorting to slicing it open with his now filthy claws with a victory smile before throwing his head back and dumping the contents in his mouth. Lard Nar had requested the ship be stocked with candy and snack foods for his own comfort, secretly hoping and excited when they had swung by to retrieve his partner from prison that his captors would let him rake his way through the delicious treats he wasn't allowed to have behind bars. It had only been a few days since Pem had been forcibly taken into custody three miles below the city of Hatalca, begging and pleading with Lard Nar to not let them take him back to the overwhelming terror of the unknown and the terrifying darkness of the padded room he had been wrangled into earlier in the week. Images of his arrest were splayed over the whole of the planet on every transmission screen and twinkling billboard, while Lard Nar's own was kept under pretty serious wraps until he was to appear in the Vortian High Court. It wasn't technically an arrest on his part; it was a subpoena, a request for him to appear without threat of a firm fight at the center of the Vortian justice system to evaluate his rule and his decisions to play God and attempt to revive the untamed, formless soul from the dead. Word had spread quickly of his impressive yet blasphemous actions, however, through the moist back alleyways of the capitol and travelled out like wildfire through every tiny town dotting grassy hills or craggily coastlines to alert everyone that their own King had defied the carefully shrouded laws of nature in favor of his own love interest. The majority continued to follow him, painting Pem as a brutal catalyst for change, almost like the big bang that had caused the violent chain reactions of swirling hot gases and flying debris that cooled and solidified into the very beauty they all called their homes. They adored him, painted his name on every graffitied corner as an unsung hero to the Vortian political system amidst the gorgeous colors of crimson and violet sprayed over gleaming metal street corners to celebrate the arrival of two other heroes, Red and Purple, as the commanders that had fought alongside Pem's ploy to take back Vort. Not quite, but what the public didn't know wouldn't hurt them; as long as the people were happy and healthy, and enjoying the company of his two brothers and his lover, that was all that mattered to Lard Nar. He thought it was a bit strange that society was taking such an incredible shine to his unstable partner to the point that they felt he needed a place painted next to his two tall brothers, tiny pinpricks of unease creeping into his abdomen at the thought of the three actually cohabitating together peacefully or even becoming friends one day. Pem was misguided, a proverbial chaotic maelstrom of undomesticated crashing waves of dogma and booming ideology ricocheting to this day through the still settling cosmos around them. He still had his moments of feral fanaticism, usually recognizing his train wreck of a mind spiraling out of control and resorting to clamping his jaw shut and cutting off his rambling ideas at the head, not feeding the media that came by his cell any damming information that could potentially harm his progress at trying to be moral. He was trying so infinitely hard to relearn social cues, taking his one allotted five minute call a day to ring Lard Nar in his stronghold underground and ask a slew of fast paced questions about how to properly address his guards, how to walk away from a prison fist fight without causing more trouble, and practiced how to dial back his wide, disturbing smile to something more genial and natural in the eyes of others. He had made a pretty decent chunk of continuous headway in the short time the two had been separated from one another, and was able to appropriately grin with his eyes rather than excessively flashing his two intimidating rows of incredibly sharp teeth.

He was trying, and that's what mattered.

Lard Nar just hoped that Pem's surprise visit to see his family wouldn't erupt in flames and thrashing claws. Purple had made the effort, quite reluctantly, to call him and request that his guard move him above ground for a few hours because they were finally ready to speak about the atrocities he had lied about and eventually committed under their antennae, stating that it was very urgent that he come and meet with Red specifically to try and rationalize some of the demons that had been swirling about in his brother's unsettled mind. Purple wouldn't feed him any further information when he panicked over the transmission, keeping his once jovial voice curt and firm and explaining that he simply needed to take it up with Red if he wanted to know the true nature of his requested visit. Lard Nar would be lying to himself if he said he wasn't absolutely horrified to see his powerful crimson brother and best friend again, knowing for sure that he had been given enough time to properly simmer and stew in his own irate feelings over the past few days and probably wanted to tear his horns clean from his skull. Still, part of him wanted to see them all again, a deep ache and hollow pit forming in his stomach at the excruciating thought of having caused his family the very pain he was trying to avoid by keeping his scientific ventures a well-guarded secret. He tried to formulate a plan early on as to how he wanted to explain to them that he had revived their greatest enemy but hadn't expected himself to get so lost to the process. He had neglected to adequately ease the situation into his loved ones' fingers, opting to work directly with his engineering team instead of taking his family's incredibly important feelings and thoughts into account and forgoing their opinions in the first place. If he had only spoken with them, if he had tried to rationalize his reasoning and the bottomless, unexplainable need for Pem to be back in his life, maybe they wouldn't be where they were now.

He had to apologize. Even if they didn't take it, he had to let them know how deeply sorry he was.

Pem was also going to apologize, even if he wasn't thrilled about it.

They had talked at length that morning around dawn about their future and what they both wanted, coming to some semblance of a consensus that neither of them wanted to die alone or die without the other again. They were two halves of the same explosive coin; one emotive and sensory and the other logical and anxious. Together they were still figuring things out for themselves, finding out little tics here and there as Lard Nar had Pem's favorite earl grey tea brewed for his enjoyment and watched as his partner ringed his cup with his finger three times before even making a sip. An old habit, he had said with a laugh, and one he hadn't really understood why or when he had picked up. Pem was softer than he had expected, enjoying talks about life and the wonders of the universe and every star cradled in it, reciting every theory about supernovas and flaming balls of molten plasma that he could remember as they reclined against the padded floor of his cell and prepared for the argument of a lifetime that was to come. Lard Nar had gingerly explained to his partner that he wanted his family in his life indefinitely, and Pem had visibly bristled at the very thought of having to talk with the four Irkens he had come to loathe more than anyone. They continued to bounce philosophical ideas about, discovering past traumas and quenching dastardly thirsts for vengeance when Lard Nar had gently prodded his lover for more information as to why he hated them all in the first place. Pem had thought long and hard, sinking further into the spongy floor and opening his mouth to snap back a sharp-tongued response, letting it die on his lips every time and resorting to the same ridiculously unfounded answer he always seemed to come up with when he was under duress.

_Because I hate Irkens._

_ That's not an answer. You hated Miyuki and her administration, not Red and Purple. They got caught in the middle of the war you were waging against the old days._

_ No, no, they're just as bad. They've murdered millions in their time as the Tallest!_

_ I know they've done some bad things, but so have you. They renounced their leadership and stepped away from everything it means to be part of the Irken Empire to come and live on Vort. Red runs supply runs for poor Vortian citizens and Purple has created a welfare program and stable housing for those in need._

_ …Oh. Why? What's in it for them? Irkens always have an ulterior motive._

_ They do it because they love this planet and all of our people. This is their home, now, and they love everyone equally regardless of their race, and I know they'll love you too if you give them a chance. They've changed, Pem. I forgive them for what they used to be, because it doesn't define who they are now. Will you apologize and give them a chance? Please?_

_ I don't know, Lard Nar. This doesn't feel right._

_ But it is right. I know you'll be able to see it once you sit down and actually talk with them, love, because they're really good people who used to be just as misguided as you. If they can change and be happy, so can you. Let them see who you've shown me you can be. _

_ …Ugh. Ok, I'll talk to them. But the moment one of them tries anything funny, I'm outta there. _

Pem managed to chew through the gummy mess of candy turning to a massive ball of gooey goodness over his tongue as his partner watched with secret amusement from afar, immediately turning his gaze away when his own guards shot him a look of confused distain and shifted uncomfortably in their places. Lard Nar swallowed and leaned forward, resting his chin in his palm as he gazed longingly out at the gargantuan city they were pattering lazily over on their way to his first home and the home of his beloved family. He had one shot to make things right for them all and mend the dastardly canyon he had managed to splay between them, hoping his apology and heartfelt explanation would somehow bring justice to the terrible injustice he had caused.

"We're almost there, right?" Pem asked after swallowing thickly around his hundredth snack. "I think I'm stress eating or something." He clenched his jaw, reaching into the compartment behind him for another package of sour candy before fumbling nervously to tear it open. "I don't really wanna do this. Are you sure I have to talk to them myself? What if they…um…they try to kill me or something?"

Lard Nar sook his head and reached across the way, taking the half open package from his partner's trembling hands and setting it on the seat beside him. "You're going to give yourself a sugar high if you're not careful. I need your mind clear for this." He smiled faintly at his twitchy partner, letting it fade when Pem didn't return it. "All you have to do is show them how you are with me."

"That's harder than you know." Pem snapped suddenly, bringing his hands together and wringing them incessantly in his lap as he slumped back and began to rock slightly where he sat. "_You_ keep me stable because I know you. _You_ keep me clear because you're Vortian. When I see Irkens I go crazy and I _want_ to hurt them. It's like some weird trigger in my brain or something." He toyed with the hem of the oversized winter sweater his partner had been kind enough to provide him with to get him out of his deep blue prison uniform.

"You're also taking the anti-psychotics now." Lard Nar reminded, feeling his smile return when Pem gave a tiny nod of agreeance. "It'll be just like having a conversation with anyone else. I'll go in and talk with them first and when they're ready to meet you I can bring you in and we can all sit down and work this out like adults." He took a deep breath and reached out for Pem's hand, happy when he immediately did the same but still refused to make eye contact.

"Don't the pills take a few weeks to kick in?" Pem mumbled, flopping forward and gripping at his partner's hand as he squeezed his eyes shut and tried to find any excuse he could to not face the irreparable damage he had caused.

"No, medical technology has come pretty far."

"Oh, um…what if they don't wanna talk to me?"

"They'll be alright."

"What if they kick me out because they hate the Earth sweater you got me? It has a weird cat thing on it and they might find it intimidating or something and-"

"Now you're just being ridiculous. You look fine in the sweater and you're _going_ in there and you're _going_ to apologize."

"But the cat thing! The cat thing, Lard Nar!"

"Stop. You're being a Vortling and I'm still your King so I'm not giving you a choice. We're almost there, anyway."

Pem ripped his hands away and raked them up over his eyes with a long, high-pitched whine, slumping back hard in his seat and coming up short for any other feasible argument he could possibly find to weasel his way out of the regrets he desperately didn't want to voice. The very thought of standing small in the towering shadows of the two beings he had previously hunted was daunting and stomach-turning, even if he was well medicated and didn't feel the overpowering need to take on organs that weren't his own for his own obsessive innovations. Lard Nar was right; he felt surprisingly level and normal, pumped full of a whopping 150 mgs of antipsychotics coursing through his veins with every pump of his renewed heart and flushing his mind of the disquieting, unwelcome voices he had formerly followed like a wicked gospel. Still, he wasn't used to normalcy, running through in his thoughts how to smile and how to properly shake hands with someone after cycles upon cycles as living feral and untamed in the stars and traipsing through the Massive unsupervised and vicious. You shake with your dominant hand and keep your grip firm, look the other person warmly in the eye and don't hold on too long at the risk of it becoming uncomfortable. If you smile, you try to refrain from flashing teeth because it could be considered a threat, something Pem had become used to displaying on the daily, and instead rely on your lips and the geniality of your eyes to portray your emotions and warmhearted intentions. Easy as cake…or so it should be.

The ship shuddered as it made its final decent in the rolling hills outside of Hatalca, landing slowly in the now worn-down backyard next to Red's rusted personal Runner before throwing out its expensive landing gear and rumbling to a complete stop. Pem ducked down with a tiny yelp when he noticed Purple already standing at the back door ready to meet them with his arms crossed over his chest and his antennae flicked forward to show off his oozing dominance. He took a deep shuddering breath and clamped a hand over his mouth, wiggling down in his seat so his target couldn't see him through the windshield before shooting Lard Nar a look of sheer, unabridged terror rolled together with heart-pounding anxiety he couldn't seem to swallow.

Lard Nar merely gave him another smile of reassurance and grazed his knee with his gloved fingertips before standing and straightening the short caplet around his shoulders and closing his eyes for a few moments, attempting to pump himself up for what he knew was to come.

"Stay here, Pem." He instructed softly, waiting for his partner to nod behind his fingers before allowing himself to be encircled by his guard and fazing open the main hatch.

"Wait!" Pem hissed suddenly, flattening his horns over his face and attempting to smile back, immediately dialing back the uncanny flash of teeth he had accidentally showed. "I…I um…be careful and don't do anything stupid."

"Don't worry," Lard Nar took a step forward and out into the light of the late morning, following the trail of pale shadow casting down from his police ship, "they're my family."

The hatch closed behind him and he immediately felt cold, staring up into the smoldering lavender gaze of his friend from afar as he approached the home that had once been so infinitely welcoming and warm now laden with an eerie frost and callousness he hadn't prepared for. Purple was wrapped in several layers of soft knitted wool, glaring down wordlessly when they finally met and searching Lard Nar's face for any signs of distress only to let his antennae twitch ever so slightly when he noticed he was sweating. He turned and slung open the door, never once breaking eye contact as his friend grew twitchier by the second and tried to maintain his composure in front of his troop, failing drastically when Purple slammed the hatch shut with a resounding boom and nearly made him jump out of his skin.

"Officers, please make yourself at home." He said formally, burning holes into the back of his target's skull as he trembled and shook to take off his cape and sling it up over his arm. "I would like to have a word with the King in _private_."

No one objected, losing their wits as Purple strode past in long languid sweeps and nodded firmly for Lard Nar to follow, glancing back when he hesitated and continuing on when he averted his ashamed gaze to the tailing of the floor and trudged along after the knitted hem fluttering against the ground in front of him. He felt his pulse nearly pop free from his chest when they landed at the guest room that used to be his before he was officially moved to his palace within the neighboring city, wavering at the hatch before drowning his pride in nervousness and going in first to stand over the rug in the center of the room. He froze at the formidable echo of a firm lock clicking behind him and two powerful feet padding every so slowly to where he stood, yelping in terrified surprise when Purple slung his arms under his and hoisted him up to carry him to the edge of the pristinely made bed. He plopped him down and hovered silently over him, shaking his head when his brother struggled to maintain his composure and tried to stutter out a string of terrified, inelegant questions, flying up to shield his face as Purple reeled back with a shout and backhanded him hard across the cheek.

"That's for lying to us!" He yelled, flying down to Lard Nar's level as he tried to scramble away in shock to grip him harshly by the shoulder and force him back down, landing another dominating, openhanded smack to his other cheek. "That's for bringing back the bastard who shot me!"

"Ow! W-Wait! W-Wait I-I can explain everything if you could just-" He was cut off as a third strike landed on his jaw, this time a well-placed, pent up punch that nearly dislocated his bone and sent him careening back over the comforter.

"And that's for what you did to my husband!" He rolled up the fluffy sleeves of his cardigan and went to land another strike, missing as Lard Nar came to and deftly maneuvered out of the way, tossing pillows back in his infuriated brother's face as he vaulted over the side of the mattress and attempted to hightail his way out of the pain.

Purple gave chase, again scooping up his frenemy around the waist and holding him tight as he flailed and panicked, trying to shriek but finding a solid, authoritarian hand clutched over his now gory mouth as Purple forced the cherished air from his lungs and nearly choked him into compliance.

"Do you know what you did?" He whispered through the tiny agonized grunts and whines of his King's ribcage almost crumbling in his hold. "Do you know why I called you?" He didn't wait for Lard Nar to attempt to wheeze out a stutter of a response, continuing as he paced the room and chased his racing thoughts. "When you decided to lie to us and do everything you did, you hurt Red beyond repair. You hurt him so deeply that he couldn't handle the pain and nearly overdosed on sedatives in the middle of our bedroom floor! Teem, Kez, and I had to break down the door to get to him because he almost choked to death on his own spit at the thought of you betraying him like that!" Purple shouted furiously, immediately dropping his target to the ground with a hard thud and clenching his fists to keep up his hot, untamed rant. "He almost overdosed because of _you_! I almost lost my husband and the love of my fucking life because you had to bring back some dead terrorist you're suddenly all mushy over!"

Lard Nar groaned from where he had fallen on his chest, pushing up on shaky arms to try and prop himself back up and immediately crying out when Purple dug his sharp toes into the small of his back and slammed him back down. He tried to roll over, the weight of the soul-crushing confession bogging him down and causing tears to prick at the corners of his eyes when he realized the gravity of the instability he had wrought over his precious, beloved family against their will. He and Red had talked at length about his harrowing, nauseating addiction and he had been completely clean for over two decades. The very notion that Lard Nar had somehow caused a relapse in his friend was disgusting, erroneous, and utterly heartbreaking on a level that he had become all too familiar with, shattering his rational thought process as he pathetically writhed under the heel of his brother crushing him further into the floor.

"I-Is Red alive?!" He couldn't think of anything else, glancing about wildly when he realized Purple had been the only one to come out and meet him. Where were the others? Where was Red? Did Teem and Kez no longer want to see him? "Please, tell me he's alright! I didn't want any of this to happen! I-I'm sorry! I-I'm sorry, Purple, for everything I've put you through and anything you need I promise I'll get it for you no matter what it costs! I'll pay for all of the medical bills and-"

"Red's alive." Purple growled dangerously, cutting Lard Nar off as he peeped and threatened to burst into a round of hot, blistering tears at the feeling of what he had unfortunately rained down upon Red's psyche. "He's alive and well no thanks to you. We got home from the hospital yesterday and before that he was in so much pain he couldn't even see straight."

"I promise, Purple, I didn't mean to do that! I-I never wanted any of this to happen!" Lard Nar repeated, feeling his teeth hit the ground as he spoke. "I love all of you! Red, Teem, Kez, you, every single one of you! I-I don't want to lose the family we made because you all mean the world to me! I-I would give up everything and die for you if you asked, please, just don't leave me behind!"

Purple let up, moving back a few feet and striding angrily to the edge of the bed as his friend coughed and sputtered weakly from the assault. "Why? Why did you do what you did, then, huh?" He asked, desperation mounting in his cracking voice for an answer he was sure he didn't want to hear. "Why did you lie to us and why did you bring back the monster that tore us all apart?"

Lard Nar was finally able to hoist himself up to his unstable, erratic feet, swaying a bit as he trudged defeatedly to where his friend had lowered himself down on the mattress, pulling himself up to the edge and slinging to dangle his feet over the frame. "I told you a long time ago that I didn't know why I loved Pem, but that's the only reason. I love him." He whispered forlornly, wincing when Purple huffed and turned away in disbelief. "I saw so much potential in him to be good that I felt like I had failed in not trying to help him find it again. I saw it at the end, when he was dying in my arms and showing me who he once was, and I realized that we had been fighting against the same regime the entire time. He's a good man deep down, and he's done some bad things, but so have we all. You and Red blew up whole planets and annihilated hundreds of races to extinction just to show off your power. Those people are never coming back. You were the most hated beings in the universe at the peak of your reign and there's still races out there that want to behead you. Teem and Kez were trying to undermine the government and used the money they sold on drugs at their bar to buy assault weapons to plan a coup against the Control Brains and take back everything they held dear. And me…I tried to murder you! I tried to murder you more than once and you and Red shot me out of the sky and killed my whole crew! These are the conversations I've been having with Pem."

Purple folded back into himself with a brutal snort. "Oh, yeah, tell him all about how terrible we all are! How nice of you, that really helps your case." He rolled his eyes and allowed himself to fall back, rolling over when Lard Nar did the same.

"I didn't just tell him about all the bad. My point is, even though he's done some terrible things and he's hurt us all, we've all tried, or succeeded, in hurting each other before as well. You two hurt me pretty bad in the past and almost sentenced me to death on Judgementia, but I still forgave you because I realized that you were trying to be different and good for us all." Lard Nar was almost begging with his tone, blinking when he noticed his friend's stiff shoulders soften ever so slightly. "I didn't mean to lie…I know I did but I didn't mean to. I got so caught up in the excitement of finally being able to stop being a failure that I didn't say anything. I also thought I was protecting you from the pain at first…"

"All you did was cause more." Purple mumbled, the power gone from his voice as he shimmied away. "He shot me. He left permanent scars on my body and all you want is to be with him? He's a menace, Lard Nar, and he'll murder again if you give him the chance."

"Once again, you shot me down and killed my whole crew." Lard Nar pushed up and tugged at Purple's thin waist, ushering him to roll over and reluctantly meet his gaze. "I'm not saying I condone any of what he did and he's agreed to work a full cycle of community service without pay if he's let go in court for what he did to you. He's on medication and he's trying really hard to be better for…me."

Purple watched him a moment, admiring the bloody stream of spit trailing down his chin from the beating his friend definitely deserved before finally giving a long slow blink and melting back down into the mess of soft understanding and kindness he had somehow become in the past two cycles. Lard Nar had a point, as much as he hated to admit it. Everyone in the public already knew that without Pem to cause the turmoil and uproar he had, Vort would still be under the thumb of the Irken Empire and he and Red would still be ruling with a backwards, confused iron fist as puppets under the mechanical beasts that wanted to enslave them all. Sledhob would have eventually pulled out of Vort when their two empires clashed over dominance, and the whole of the planet would have crumbled to dust and the Vortian race would have gone extinct in the next hundred cycles. That still didn't change the fact that Red had lost two teeth, received a plasma burn scar on his cheek, another gunshot to his shoulder, Teem had gone blind, Kez had consistent nightmares and was battling insomnia like the rest of them, and Purple had constant twinges of pain in his ribcage. He had flashbacks about Pem, about his wiry, untamed smile and his cackle of a screeching laugh resounding in his mind as he faked his way through the night and tried to get a full eight hours of sleep next to his beloved. Purple swallowed as Lard Nar waited patiently for a response, thinking back through his time fighting with the then Resisty and realizing that he had horrific nightmares about Lard Nar back then as well. He used to fear his influence in the political field, fear what he could do to the delicate technology of the Massive, and fear what he could do should he get his hands on his partner. They were enemies; two fanatical dictators and a determined terrorist butting heads and causing horrendous, white hot sparks to fly as they picked off pilots and rebels one by one from either side in a consistent war of coldblooded murder. Lard Nar had been a menace, too, but now he was King of Vort and one of the kindest, most compassionate men Purple had ever had the privilege of meeting. He was smart beneath the surface, incredibly passionate about his cause to restore his planet to its former beauty and blinding glory, and dedicated to providing a place for all races to come and live in absolute, beautiful harmony.

If Lard Nar could change, and Purple could learn to trust him completely after everything he had done, could it be the same with Pem?

Purple traced his hands up through the thick knit of his sweater, palming lightly at his scar through the material and shuddering lightly at the sudden chill rocketing up his spine. He mumbled something incoherent under his breath and sat up, averting his gaze to the floor for a few quick moments before meeting his friend's expectant, pleading gaze once more.

"Tell me what you see in him. I want to hear it from your own mouth." Purple halfway demanded, watching closely as the fear in Lard Nar's eyes was masked almost instantaneously by a warmhearted twinkle of delight he couldn't hold back. "Convince me he's not a total piece of trash like I think he is."

"Well…He's incredibly intelligent and likes to solve problems. If you sit there and watch him work through things in his mind it's absolutely beautiful to see; every equation and solution pouring out of him like they were nothing. He thinks he's become stupid, but it's a total lie." He paused when a rogue grin threatened to appear on his face, reaching up and smoothing it away with his palm to smear his own bright blue blood over his lips before continuing. "I love his laugh, his _real_ laugh, because he snorts a little when he gets himself going and he's great with words almost to a fault. He could probably talk his way out of anything if he tried hard enough. He's also," he leisurely waved his wrist, averting his gaze to the ceiling and trying to come up with a way to explain through his lovestruck feelings, "soft? Compassionate? No, I would say curious. Curious is a good word. Pem is so enthusiastic about learning new things and sees the world like it was painted with bright colors or something. It's refreshing to see someone who looks at things in such an amazing way. I love his mind even if everyone thinks it's broken, I love his hands and feeling them in mine and-" He stopped himself short when he noticed Purple was staring back at him in some kind of awe, trying his best to decipher the blank look across his friend's face as he averted his lingering gaze to the far closet across the room.

Lard Nar froze when he heard the door creak open, squeezing his eyes shut when three sets of footsteps resounded through the mind-numbing silence to invade his much-needed personal space and cause his cramped claustrophobia to set in. He didn't dare turn around, knowing for sure who was there from the telltale tap of a walking cane and the static of a communication's headset worn out of habit. Then there was the scent. He could smell it permeating every cell in his body and nearly making him nauseous; that spicy, exotic wafting of rich cologne Purple had fallen so madly in love with.

"He…he makes you _that_ happy?"

Lard Nar let his silent tears fall freely when a familiar voice rang out in unexpected disbelief of the friend he hadn't known was listening the whole time, gripping at his knees and mustering a tiny nod when he heard a single set of footsteps cautiously approach from behind, stiffening and holding back a cry when a hand landed on his shoulder. He braced for impact, tightening every muscle in his body for the forceful, bone-shattering blow he was petrified to receive, letting his eyes slowly flutter open when he felt two arms wrap around him instead to pull him into a tight, desperate hug. Purple stood as Red fumbled to take his place on the bed, not once letting go of the profoundly deep friend he had come to miss terribly as Lard Nar instinctually folded into the embrace and hugged back, Purple hushing Teem and Kez from where they lit up and tried to coo out their overflowing excitement before ushering them out of the room and gently closing the hatch behind them with a soft smile.

Red couldn't contain himself, bursting into a fit of audible tears as all of his pent up pain came pouring out against his friend's petite shoulder to stain his undershirt, feeling Lard Nar do the same as he pulled his horns back and cried himself into submission at the thought of almost losing his dearest friend. They didn't move or speak for a long while, enjoying each other's presence and feeling the thump of steadily slowing pulses against jugulars as they silently flushed away every last drop of liquid animosity clinging to their skin and sloshing through their collectively regretful minds at the things that had gone unsaid.

"I'm sorry." Red sniffed, breaking the gooey silence and pulling back to wipe his cheeks hastily on the back of his hand and tried to frantically save face. "I didn't mean what I said, about you not being my brother anymore. You'll always be my family and I want you around, no matter how pissed off I am at you right now."

Lard Nar nodded and removed his goggles, cleaning away the horrendously tear stained lenses before replacing them over his raw cheeks. "And I'm sorry I lied to you. I-I should have asked for your opinion but I was selfish and I almost got you killed. I promise, Red, I never wanted any of this to happen! I-I never wanted to hurt you that bad, or see you fall victim to your addiction again all over what I did!"

"Shut up. We were both selfish, I guess." Red mumbled, voice thick with overwhelming remorse and shame for having been so unbearably cruel. "I…um…I didn't listen to your opinions, either. I still hate them, and I don't agree with you, but that doesn't mean I should have been an asshole." He forced a laugh to try and lighten the mood. "Pur keeps telling me I need to keep my anger in check, so I'm trying to breathe through it when it happens instead of exploding."

"I…I forgive you." Lard Nar whispered, averting his gaze to the floor. "Does this mean we're going to be alright, now?"

Red thought long and hard about the question, going back and forth with himself several times before settling on some semblance of a dark, unnerving answer that had Lard Nar squirming where he sat. "You and I will be ok. The rest of us and Pem, that's another story. If he wants to ever make it up to me, Pur, Teem, or Kez, he's going to have to do something pretty drastic to even earn a second chance at life on Vort. He shot my husband, indirectly took my tooth, and indirectly caused my oldest friend to go blind. He brought us all together, I'll actually give him that, but he's a monster and I can't trust someone who's stabbed me in the back already."

"I…I know. He's trying to be better, I promise. Will you give him a second chance to start over? Or at least talk to him and see for yourself?"

"Why? Is he here?"

"…Yes. He's outside in the police cruiser. I thought it would be the only way you would talk with him so I brought him along and he wants to apologize."

"And he really makes you this happy? You actually want to be with him?"

"Yes."

"Are you _sure_?"

"I've had a full cycle to make sure, so yes."

Lard Nar shuddered at the sudden weight their conversation had taken, going over possibilities for reparations in his mind and feeling everything fall to pieces when Red suddenly chimed back in and made a chilling, haunting proclamation that rocked his world and shook some of his terrifying, receding fears back to the surface.

"Ok. But he has to prove himself and if he backs out, I'm testifying against him in court. Why don't we follow the Vortian social custom of give and take? I want one of his teeth, I want him scarred over his ribcage, and I want him blinded in one eye. Only then will I trust him and give him a chance."

* * *

**Outside in the Police Cruiser**

Pem tried to wait as patiently as he could, peeking up from between his guards to nervously eye the back hatch to his partner's former home with keen interest in the renewed clarity in his frazzled mind. He had been gone for nearly half an hour without any sign that he was alright, Pem beginning to fear the worst and opening his mouth to ask if one of his guards could sneak in and check the progress his mate was making before a tiny, curious voice piped up outside the hatch.

"Hello? _Hello_? Your ship is really pretty!"

One of the guards blinked in annoyance when Pem's curiosity got the better of him, moving to stand and press his face against the side window before stumbling back when a tiny grin jumped up to meet his.

"Hello! What's your name?"

Pem curled his lip as the glass fogged under his breath, staring down at the tiny nubs of horns attempting to twitch forward to greet him and scent him for the first time. Two blue almond eyes beamed up at him from within an overly long, pink scarf shrouding most of the tiny body bouncing excitedly and waving gargantuan mittened hands back up at him to get his attention.

"Go away, kid. This is a police ship!" He called back in annoyance, trying to shew the curious Vortling on and yelping when she began to tug at the outside handle of the hatch, pulling it open and losing her balance as the two guards hopped to attention and brandished their plasma pistols.

The little Vortling giggled and struggled to roll herself back up from within the immense layers she had been covered with, adjusting her slipping gloves and finally hoisting herself to her pointed feet. "Mister, your friends are funny!" She pointed up at the two officers lowering their guard and slinging their pistols back into their black canvas belts in utter bewilderment at the lack of fear pouring off of the little creature. "I was told I have to play outside by Mr. Purple because I'm not allowed to meet King Lard Nar yet until he says so!"

Pem blinked and took a tentative step back when the girl lingered at the base of the hatch, almost beckoning him down but knowing he wasn't allowed to take his leave without threat of a hole to the back of his skull. "How do you know Lard Nar? Are you cousins or something?" He mused, leaning out over the steps teasingly and enjoying the look of warning complacency flashing over his captor's stern visages. "Tell me, short thing, is Vort really as nice now as everyone says?"

The girl spat scarf fluff from her mouth and tugged it away with a wide beam. "Yeah! There's ice cream shops and toy shops and all the cool things I've never seen! When I find Daddy I wanna go to the new toy store and buy a pretty doll that I can dress up. They have detachable horns now so you can pick the kind you like and I want them like yours!" She laughed and struggled to bend down, picking a single blade of grass and plopping down on the steps of the hatch. "I'm really bored out here. You wanna see something super cool I learned how to do?"

Pem went to shoo her away with an uninterested flick of the wrist as she rambled, groaning in jaded indifference when she patted the stoop and insisted that he sit down next to her. He hated this, sneering and impassively lowering himself down when she tugged off her mittens and began to fold the thick blade into something unknown. He didn't even know this kid, and yet here she was, getting into his business and snooping about the vehicle he was forced to remain captive in like she owned the place. At least it would be better than sitting and staring at the back of the pilot's seat for another hour and a half; he would probably lose his slowly clearing mind if he had to go through any more torture like that. He questioned a few seconds if he should have the intrusive tiny thing find him a wire since she was so enthusiastic and unafraid so he could pick the lock on his handcuffs and run, knowing that if he did that he would never have a chance at being with Lard Nar again and would definitely be shot. No thank you.

"Why are you sitting out here in those things?" The Vortling asked, gesturing to Pem's handcuffs as she stuck out her tongue and continued her sloppy, tedious work. "Did you do something you weren't supposed to?"

Pem hesitated, leaning back and staring up at the strip of stars streaking across the sky. "I did a lot I wasn't supposed to. You ever heard of a murderer?" He asked, trying to intimidate the nuisance away and narrowing his eyes in mounting irritation when she grinned once more and nodded. "_I'm_ a murderer. I've killed hundreds of people with my own hands."

"Oh. Ok."

"_Ok_?"

"Yeah."

"Woah, woah, woah! Are you serious? You're not afraid of that? I've had blood on my face! I've had other people's organs in my hands! I've hunted Irkens and torn them to shreds, and you're not even scared?"

"No. Everyone on the planet has killed people. When we were all still in prison we had to kill people to survive."

"…Oh. Right."

There was an awkward silence as Pem watched her fold and twist the blade of grass into a tiny ring, holding it up to the light as she giggled before reaching out and snatching his hand against his will as he tried to tug away in involuntary surprise, quickly settling as she slipped the poorly fitting ring over his middle finger with a proud nod.

"See? I learned how to make those at the camp for all of my friends." She said in a matter of fact tone, retrieving her mittens as her new friend looked over the improvised gift she had so selflessly given him. "I ran away from the camp the guard took me to because I wanted to find my Daddy! Mr. Purple and Mr. Red know him and they said they were gonna help me find him so I can have a family again!"

"Huh." Pem glanced down to the chubby, rosy cheeks smiling wildly back up at him in bubbling excitement more powerful than sunshine. "That's neat. I mean, this thing you made. You ever think about becoming an engineer when you get older? They get to build lots of stuff and figure out how to solve problems for society, and you've already got the creativity it looks like."

The Vortling shrugged and pushed herself up, kicking at the chilly dirt and holding back a sneeze when the cold bit at the tips of her horns. "Daddy was an engineer!" She replied gleefully, sending a pang of unease rocketing through Pem's chest at the sudden comment and forcing him to lean forward. "He was an engineer before Mommy was gone is the story I got told by the guard who took care of me at the camp. He made sure that I wasn't bullied or taken away to the other planet because he liked me."

"Other planet? You mean Irk?" Pem prodded, fishing or more information as strange, uncanny puzzle pieces began to fall into place and his pulse began to escalate at the very thought he knew couldn't be true. "You were taken to a servant's camp, weren't you?"

The girl nodded with a petite shrug, bounding halfway across the yard and flopping down to uproot an ancient stick poking up from the soil, tugging it free and carving pictures into the earth as she lazed about and innocently played. "Yeah, but the guard who took me was nice and kept me safe for a long time since he said I was a baby and it wasn't fair if I was told I had to cook for Irkens." She didn't seem fazed by the peculiar, immense peril she was almost subjected to should she have been shipped off to Irk for the slave trade. "I got taken away from the camp and I was taken to a nice lady who made a home for Vortlings while the planet was all fixed and made better. But…" She dropped her stick and looked back up with her deep cerulean stare, unraveling Pem in a way he hadn't expected. "I saw on the news that Mr. Purple and Mr. Red had fought my Daddy in the war so I looked for their house in an address bank and ran away to find them. They said they were gonna take me to Daddy!" She repeated with eager enthusiasm as Pem froze where he stood between his guards and almost dropped to his knees as his jaw went slack and his heart shot up into his throat.

"What…" he breathed under his shaky breath, carefully lowering himself to the ground in stunned disbelief as the tiny girl resumed her lighthearted game, grabbing for her stick and kicking up soil in all directions with a wild giggle.

She broke the decrepit stick in half and passed it to Pem with an expectant bounce, watching as he took it through his restricted movement and stared blankly at every curve in her youthful face and every freckle dotting the bridge between her twinkling eyes. Blue…so blue. Her horns were tiny and undeveloped, hinting at her youthful age as she instructed him fervently on the rules of their new dirt flinging game, waving a hand in front of his face as a flood of incredible, blistering hot tears of pure, unabridged surprise threatened to overflow across his cheeks the more he looked her over and realized exactly who he was watching pick at diminutive rocks and laugh in slow motion through every peaceable laugh bouncing from her thin lips. It couldn't be. It couldn't be. It couldn't be. She was gone. She was supposed to be completely displaced to the universe and scattered to the cosmos like the gorgeous, glittering burst of fire she had been from the moment his long-lost wife placed her in his trembling arms and her tiny hands roamed blindly up over his fingers as she cried feebly in that soft, melodious voice he could almost hear. She was an angel, a vision of sheer perfection and shuddering hope ripping and stripping away layers of disgusting, nauseating violence and melting him down to the core in an instant as she watched him go through an entire existential crisis in the grass and try to formulate a way to speak up and ask the damming question he was too scared to hear the answer to. What if this was a dream? What if it was all some medication induced vision he couldn't control, and he was still lying on his back in the padded room of his cell waiting for his white knight to come and rescue him? Would he be ok with that if his own mind was showing him such illustrious, radiant fantasies he could almost feel and smell as utterly real and indescribable? Her story was spot on. Her father was an engineer and her mother was dead. She had been sent away to a children's camp. His enemies had fought her father in the war, whatever war that could have been. But, how many other children out there shared the same family-fracturing story as his forgotten daughter? What if this girl was someone else bent on finding her true father and he was only getting his sensitive, overblown senses hyped up for nothing?

Name.

What was her name?

The little girl frowned in misunderstanding when she noticed a slow, gradual smile form up over Pem's features followed by a rush of deep, unwarranted color to his cheekbones as he dropped the stick and brought his hands to his face so sob.

"Mister? Are you ok?" The intriguing Vortling asked, reaching out to harmlessly trace the image of the sweet cat knitted into his foreign sweater with the tip of her muddy stick, smearing dirt over his clothing. "Did I make you sad?"

"N-No." Pem managed to halfway choke out, folding forward into the grass as his guards snickered at the pathetic display such a redoubtable former extremist had become. "What…What…" he tried a few times to ask for her name, reaching out with his cuffed hands for hers and feeling another body wracking, weak sob shudder down his back and steal whatever was left of his voice.

"You're kinda weird when you talk. Your voice sounds funny." She giggled simply, patting him lightly on top of the knuckles to try and reassure his perceived sadness away. "Are you sad because you're a murderer? Don't worry! Our planet is nice now so you don't have to do that again and everyone can be friends."

Pem couldn't contain himself, reaching up to sling his arms around the girl's shoulders as she squeaked in surprise, shuddering away from the cold metal of his handcuffs hitting the back of her neck as he folded forward and his guards reached out to forcibly tug him away at the sudden intrusion. She held tight, instinct taking over as she listened to his heartbeat radiate out through his sweater and wrapped her short arms around his waist, flicking off her mittens and digging her tiny claws into the material as she whined incessantly up at his harsh captors.

"Hey, stop it! Mister wants a hug and everyone needs a hug when they're sad!" She growled defensively, swatting at powerful gloved hands and staring up over Pem's shoulder as he bawled out his overwhelming, Vort-shattering happiness and ethereal relief against her apple-like cheek.

"Sir, you're violating your good standing by touching a civilian. We'll unfortunately have to report this back to the Vortian High Court in order to-"

Pem didn't listen, pulling back and searching the girl's now tear stained face with a wide-eyed gawk, trying to run his hand up the side of her jaw but finding his restraints overly restrictive of his movements. He took a deep, shuddering breath and finally mustered up enough courage to ask, slowly and cautiously, the question he had hanging on the tip of his tongue. "What…w-what…what's your name?" He whimpered, waiting with bated breath and almost losing his mind when the girl gifted him another naive, charming beam.

"I'm Nea Gen. What's your name?"

Pem yelled out his rapturous joy, tackling Nea back and rolling onto the grass when she shrieked again in dumbfounded surprise at the abrupt change in volume, finding herself completely trapped in his strong hold as he squeezed her and let loose a torrent of vibrant, wholly ecstatic laughs and kisses peppered to the side of her face as she struggled to pull back through her blindsided mystification.

"Mister! Y-You're squeezing me too hard! Ouchie!" She peeped in aggravation, pushing off of his chest as he sat back up and moved to tenderly cradle her in his arms, flipping back his long horns to see her properly and make sure he wasn't clutching onto some kind of mirage. "W-What's your name?"

No. She was here. She was here, she was whole, and she was everything he had dreamed of finding again one day and more. "Pem. My name is Pem Goor."

Nea blinked in jaw-slackening incredulity, rocketing completely stiff in his clutches as she attempted to mouth the name over her tongue before lighting up brighter than a supernova and reaching up to take him by the side of the face, eyes alight with a surge of untamable pride and uncut exhilaration rebounding between them as she threw her head back and let out a piercing scream that deafened Pem's guard and forced their hands up over their horns as they squinted.

"Daddy! _Daddy_! I knew I would find you, I just _knew_ I would find you!" She giggled wildly, flying into another spine breaking hug as Pem slogged to his feet and twirled her as they laughed in tandem. "I wanted to find you for a long time and don't ever go away again! I want you to stay with me and be here forever and ever!"

"Nea, I can't believe you're alive! I-I thought about you every day for cycles and I'm sorry I never came to find you!" Pem breathed, holding her close and determined never to let go again. "Daddy won't ever leave you again! I-I'll always be here for you no matter what."

He was determined to be good, feeling the last nail of blissful, lawful diligence hammer into the coffin of his murderous, homicidal past self as he pulled back to look over his tiny daughter again. He had a purpose, a life, a family. His planet was completely restored and overtaken by the lush undergrowth of new life and whole cities were sprouting around them as Vortian Runners and Stingers zipped overhead and families played in the frozen streets of the quaint town his long lost puzzle piece had managed to find all on her own. He drug her back in, smoothing up over her horns with the tips of his fingers as best as he could manage to reach and letting his teary eyes flutter shut when he realized he truly did have a chance. He had to take it not only for himself or for Lard Nar, but for the petite, innocent hands clutching at his shoulders and reminding him of everything he once was and everything he could be again. He was wrong, erroneous, terrible, and destined for a life of disgustingly appalling karma surfacing from every delicate neck he had ever twisted and chest he had blown a grisly hole through, but his daughter had been right. Their planet had fallen into a time of undeniable, gorgeous peace and there was no need to fight anymore; the violence had been replaced with brotherhood, the streets were paved with ingenuity, and the job market had exploded with scientific advancement and research as Vortians, Irkens, and Inquisitorians alike hunted for medical cures and ways to prolong the life of food crops now sprouting in the sun kissed countryside.

He was wrong.

He was a monster, a renounced terrorist, and a walking case of dozens of mental issues. But, he was a father and he would do his best to provide a stable home if it meant he could always remain with his daughter.

"Does this mean I can stay with you?" Nea reached up and played with the tip of his now rigid horns, nuzzling into his shoulder as he carried her back to the ship and enjoyed the weight of his reclaimed loved one slung in his now protective arms. "I don't have to go back to the homeless girls' place?"

Pem immediately shook his head with a thick sniff. "No. You're never going back there and we're gonna have a good life together." He paused, glancing to the side as he wavered and thought over the dastardly mess he had unfortunately gotten himself into but knew he would have to face sooner or later in court. "As soon as Daddy clears up some bad things he did, I'm gonna take you to that toy store and get you that doll you want. A-And we'll have a home with King Lard Nar where we can be safe and happy together and never be apart again."

Nea went to say something, jolting when a voice called out to her father from across the lawn and caused him to turn on a dime, immediately narrowing his eyes to the tall, crimson Irken staring back at him from beyond the waving grass.

"Hey, tall guy." Pem mused dangerously, tightening his hold around Nea's waist before immediately remembering the progress he and Lard Nar had undergone over transmission, swallowing down his faint need for conflict in favor of stooping to set his clingy child to the ground before straightening the scarf Kez had given her and striding forward. He felt his pulse drop when Purple popped out from the backdoor with Lard Nar who had been pretty roughed up, panicking a bit but again letting it go when his partner shot him a look to warn him to behave.

Pem held his hot breath and looked up, meeting the harsh gaze of the domineering monster he had come to hate before tentatively extending his cuffed hands out and trying to usher Red into a horrified, reluctant handshake.

"I mean, hello, Red." He said gradually through his teeth, shaking the wide, disturbing grin from his face and instead dialing it back into a smooth, languid sweep of a tiny smile followed by an awkward blink as he tried to remember what little etiquette he had been taught. "My name is Pem Goor, but you can call me Pem. Or short guy since I called you…um…tall guy. I know you already know that, but I figured I would tell you again so we can, eh, start off on a better note or something?"

Red didn't know what to think through the thick mask of skepticism eating away at his rational judgement, glancing back at where Purple had emerged with tiny Kez blistering with powerful rage at the sight of her greatest enemy trying to be so unbelievably compassionate and moral and Teem who's stagnant antennae picked up a treacherous quiver at the salty sound of his squeaky voice.

"No! I take it back!" Kez yelled, stomping lightly on the ground and trying to turn to grab or her wife's hand and make for her escape back inside. "I don't like this, and I don't like him! He's mean and nasty, and I don't want him anywhere near my wife after what happened!"

Pem withdrew his hand at the sudden tenacity of the hiss pouring out of the petite Irken his mate had chosen to be his sister, instead bringing his hand down to the top of Nea's head when she skipped over and waved up at where Red still stared down with a beating, unforgiving intensity that made her father's skin crawl.

"Ah. Yes. What happened." Pem began with a cheesy, nervous smile. "Ah, ha. I was pretty bad back then, right? We all remember how scary I used to be." He trailed off, noticing he was rambling and glancing to Lard Nar for help, who rolled his eyes and strode around his brother's legs to take Pem by the hand.

"Love, let me officially introduce you to Commander Red of the Vortian Relief Mission, Commander Purple of my high cabinet, Mrs. Teem who runs a self-defense class for women downtown, and Mrs. Kez who is going to be starting a job in the Royal Armada as a communications specialist in three months." Lard Nar prodded, hoping to give his partner something to go off of as the other four continued to overly scrutinize him to a fault. "You came all the way here and-" He paused, noticing the tiny Vortling clinging to his leg and frowning. Nea stuck out her tongue teasingly with a giggle under her breath, hiding it under her palm when Lard Nar looked away and chose to ask questions later. "Isn't there something you wanted to say to everyone?"

"No." Pem immediately blurted out through his jittery nerves, moving to snatch at his daughter's hand and take her away with him before his partner grabbed him by the wrist and yanked him back in against his will. Pem lowered his voice to a hiss, moving his mate off to the side and throwing his free hand up at the look plastered over Red's domineering features. "Look at those idiots! They obviously don't wanna talk to me so we're leaving!"

"You and who?" Lard Nar argued, nodding down to the Vortling watching her father with great interest. "You can't just go off and steal the neighborhood children."

Pem groaned and rolled his eyes with an overdone sneer. "Ugh, listen to you! I'm not stealing her! She's _mine_!" He jabbed a thumb back at the others where they waited patiently. "Apparently they've been harboring my daughter for Vort knows how long without telling anyone! If they don't wanna hear me out then fine by me, but I'm taking Nea with me and getting outta this place."

Lard Nar froze in bewildered shock, looking back down to where Nea beamed innocently and played sweetly with the grass ring she had so compassionately made for her unstable father. "She…this is the one from the photograph?" He breathed in misunderstanding, reaching out and grabbing Pem by the shoulder. "If she's actually your daughter you can't just take her. You're still technically in prison until you've been released in court. If you try to leave now and violate the stipulations they gave you for coming out here, you'll never be able to give her a good home."

Pem wavered, glancing down at the bundle of joy clutching at his fingers before looking leisurely back over his shoulder to where his partner's family waited in rapidly diminishing fortitude for the carefully planned speech he was supposed to give. His partner was right; if he messed anything up, he could lose the one family member he had left forever and never see her again after all of the harrowing, mind-numbing time they had both spent trying to reunite with one another and finally be free again. Something boiled up in his chest as he thought, a feeling so sickeningly warm and horrifically pleasant that he couldn't overcome it. He'd felt it before with Lard Nar every time his lover took him by the hand or reassured him that everything would be alright in the end, and now he felt it for the defenseless, gullible life swaying playfully against him as she giggled and picked threads from his woolen sweater. Fine. He would do whatever it took to keep her out of harms way…and to keep her from having to return to a homeless shelter.

Pem gingerly instructed his daughter to take Lard Nar's hand, absolutely devastated and utterly reluctant to let her go so soon after finding her again and watching as the two made their way back inside and shut the door with a gentle click. He wasn't sure what was going to happen as he made his way back to where his enemies stood in a gaggle above him, wanting to preserve Nea's innocent eyes from the horrors of bloodshed should things turn south faster than he was expecting. He immediately felt infinitesimally small and gruesomely shamed, watching as his partner's family members each brandished a separate tool they had been hiding behind their back with the exception of little Kez, who hung back and watched from afar from between her fingers.

Pem tried to ignore the blatant attempt at intimidation, watching carefully as Purple held up a glittering kitchen knife and letting his eyes travel to the terrifying set of rusted pilers clutched firmly in Red's fist. Worst of all, that made him want to run for his life, was the plasma torch clicking blindly through Teem's firm claws as she ran the pad of her finger along the button and threatened to click it on.

"I…" Pem began, making sure his daughter wasn't peeking through the window behind them out of fear she would see him getting exactly what he knew he deserved. "I talked at length with my partner and I wanted to tell you, for his sake, that I'm…I'm sorry." The words stung his overbearing pride and deflated what was left of his ego, stomping him into the dust as Red nodded for him to continue. "Actually, I _am_ sorry. I realized that we were all fighting for the same thing in the end and I wanted to express my sincere condolences for…" Pem rolled his eyes at the overly formal speech he and Lard Nar had practiced, shaking his head and instead looking up to meet Red's ferocious gaze once more. "Look, I'm terrible and I've done something to all of you but it's not like you didn't deserve it at the time. We were at war. People get hurt, people go blind, and people get shot. Was it right? Probably not. But I'm sorry, really, and if you wanna kill me just don't do it in front of my daughter or my life mate."

"You know I can't forgive you for what you did to my husband, right?" Red's voice was level as he slung his hand around Purple's waist and drew him in close against the chill hanging in the air, watching as his partner clutched at his tiny knife and swallowed.

Pem shrugged, giving in to his fate and chuckling when he realized karma had caught up to him quicker than he had expected. "Yeah, yeah. I don't wanna die alone, but I guess I won't now, will I?" He glanced back to his guards who had turned a blind eye to the imminent danger he was in, turning back and throwing his arms wide when he realized he was again at the end of the line. "Kill me. Just…don't hurt Lard Nar or Nea. Protect them for me and make sure she goes to a good school and gets the doll form the toyshop around here somewhere with the detachable horns like she likes. Also…don't let Lard Nar clone me again. He…he deserves better and I realize that now, so help him find a pretty girl who can give him whatever I couldn't."

He puffed out his chest and waited for the inevitable, squeezing his eyes shut and holding his breath for the first blow through his delicate skin that was to come, carefully peeling an eye back open when he was met with a surprising level of unforeseen peace and tranquility.

"Ok, that counts as an apology." Red chuckled, still obviously on edge as he let Purple go and extended a hand down, waiting for Pem to reach up through his cuffs and take it and pulling back with a smirk when he had frozen in place at the lack of terrifying blood-letting he was sure was to come. "I have an offer for you, since you like making deals, and I hope you take me up on it for your sake."

Pem didn't know what to say, petrified in time as he mulled over how to respond, feeling a pang of renewed terror creep up over his stomach as Red held up the set of pliers in the glinting sun. "What? You accept my apology?! It was that easy?!" He threw his hands out in front of him, olive eyes vaulting in shocked disbelief between the four. "You've gotta be kidding me, you actually accept my apology?!"

Red reached out for the plasma torch and knife, holding them carefully in his other hand before shrugging. "I'll believe it if you accept my deal." He mused, his voice taking a cold dip from the gracious enthusiasm that had once tinged his voice. "Pur, do you wanna stay for this or do you wanna go inside with Teem and Kez?"

"I'll stay." Purple crossed his arms over his chest and watched as his partner took a deep breath as his two sisters nodded him on and followed inside after his brother and the tiny Vortling they had been housing. He waited for them to go, crossing over to where Pem stood dumbfounded in the cold and began to grow uneasy at the sacrifice he was going to have to make as reparations for his terrible, body-razing wave of mass homicide. "Pem, you're welcome to stay, if you do something for us first."

"Stay?" Pem's horns craned forward into the beautifully delicious thought of having a home to return to with people who may eventually want him around. Nea could have contact with others who were battle hardened and play with the hundreds of other Vortlings in the neighborhood like a normal child, coming home each night to feast on delicious cooking, hopefully, and hear war stories from her uncles and aunts that would welcome her into their family with loving arms. Did…did he actually want that?

"You shot me, had your lackey Urb Yen take my partner's tooth, and your war made one of the most beautiful Irkens I know go completely blind." Purple explained, placing a hand on Red's shoulder in reassurance when he too seemed to grow a bit anxious for what was to come. "If you want to stay, and want us to give you a second chance, you have to let us take one of your teeth, scar you with the knife over your ribcage where you shot me, and we're going to take your sight in one of your eyes."

Pem scrambled back, clamping his hands over his mouth as Red straightened back up and clinked his pilers menacingly over his quivering form like Urb Yen had done to him nearly two cycles ago in the past, grinning and snaking his long tongue through the hole where his molar used to be. Purple reached down and lifted his sweater with an overly ominous grin, showing off the deep raised scar from Pem's plasma shot dug deep into his ribcage and staining him with the heavy reminders of warfare for the rest of his long life. Pem looked to them both, flinching when Red replaced the pilers in his pocket and instead tugged free the plasma torch, clicking it on and waving the bright orange flame through the frigid autumn air as he stared on in utter terror for the excruciating, white hot agony he was going to be put through.

No. Yes. No…yes? No! _Yes_!

Pem couldn't decide what to do, opening up an internal dialogue with himself as he bounced back and forth between the two damming, terrifying options he had been presented with against his weakening resolve. If he said no, he would lose Lard Nar and Nea and walk away unscathed to go to court, undoubtedly losing at that point and being thrown back in a maximum-security prison to live the rest of his disgusting life alone without love. But this, if he took the option of body modification and allowed his partner's blood brothers to mark him in the same way that he had marked them all, he would be disfigured for the remainder of his life, but he would have the opportunity to be there for his daughter and watch her grow up to be a healthy, happy woman stronger than steel and have the chance to fall asleep next to his chosen mate every night as they talked about sweet nothings and sipped herbal teas. Would Lard Nar still love him if he was covered in the literal manifestation of his darkest projects and horrific decisions come back to haunt him.

Yes.

Pem took a deep breath as the word immediately rang true over the fear, annihilating every agonizing, excruciating doubt in his mind as he stepped back forward and opened his mouth wide, squeezing his eyes shut as Red nodded in approval and stooped to his level. He heard Purple walk through the grass to position himself behind Pem's back should he writhe against the torture, holding him tight in his dominating hold as his husband reached back and grabbed for the rusted set of disturbing pliers, clinking them against each and every one of Pem's long, serrated teeth as he shivered and tried not to whimper in fear at the torment and mind-numbing anguish looming on his horizons. Red quickly selected a tooth in the front, clamping down over the tip and tugging lightly to make sure he had a firm hold against his saliva slicked bone, hesitating momentarily before piping up a final time.

"Are you sure this is what you want? You would give this all up, go through all this pain, just for Lard Nar?" He asked slowly, hammering the decision into his captive's brain as he began to pant and prematurely squirm in nauseating anticipation.

"Yeah, just do it already and be quick!" Pem managed to squeak out against the metallic intrusion in his mouth, eyes flying open and screaming in blinding, searing pain when Red yanked down hard and swiftly removed one of his two front teeth with a single motion as blood flowed freely from his now empty socket.

Purple held firm and scrunched up his face in horrendous discomfort to the reparations he knew they had to take to ensure their past enemy didn't continue on with his nasty, gut-wrenching ways, feeling his spooch beat faster in dread when Red hastily lowered him back and pulled up Pem's sweater, groaning in grisly discomfort as he raked the kitchen knife down the same spot as Purple's unfortunate gunshot wound and left an impressively deep gash that would turn to a disgusting, ugly scar. Pem cried out in heartbreaking pain at every rushed advance Red was trying to hurry through, moving on to the worst of the three and rearing back as Purple pressed down on Pem's shoulders and looked away with a terrified nod of approval, refusing to watch and shuddering violently as Red forced the flame down hard against their enemy's delicate socket, obliterating his valuable vision in his olive green left eye and feeling his back vault before he gave a last guttural cry of feral, unexpurgated agony and flailed, eventually going completely limp to the world as he passed out from the torture and his new family pulled back to flinch at the disgusting, gruesome work his face had become. Red had seared him into utter oblivion, hitting half of his face with the sweltering heat as a mixture of blood and cooling plasma oozed from the massive wound and coated the woven front of his once adorable Earthen sweater with the payment he was overdue for.

Purple let go and immediately stooped to scoop him up despite his own fears and reservations, feeling his body ragdoll in his arms as Red tossed the gory tool to the side and pushed himself free from the dirt, taking the lead in dumbfounded silence as his husband followed along.

"I…he did it." Purple breathed in stunned, shell-shocked bewilderment, staring down at the immeasurable, bloody sacrifice and appalling body modification Pem had decided to endure to prove his worth and sincerity to them all once and for all. He readjusted his hold when his limp body threatened to slip, glancing through the window to make sure Nea didn't catch sight of her brave father so low and brazenly destroyed in skin and mind as they neared the back entrance to their home.

Red nodded solemnly, wiping his blood-soaked hands on his slacks before reaching out for the door handle and whistling for the two guards to follow suit. "I didn't expect it either." He mumbled, holding open the hatch and letting his partner step through first. "I guess Lard Nar was right about him trying to be good...for once." He swallowed, clearing a spot on their kitchen table as Pem moaned and struggled violently to come to, thrashing a bit against the deep burn searing into the back of his skull and the taste of nauseating metallic blood flooding his mouth as he choked.

Purple gingerly laid down his feebly writhing body atop the table and called for Kez, watching as she popped up over the couch and gasped at the horrendous mess their target had become.

"Oh my Vort, this is so much worse than you said it was going to be!" She tried not to gag on the overwhelming amount of sticky, warm blood oozing onto the metal surface of the table and dripping to the floor in tiny puddles. "I learned basic first aid in the Academy, not…not _this_! This requires stitches and antibiotics! W-What if he needs surgery to remove his gross eye now?! You have to take him to a hospital!"

"We can't because he's technically still supposed to be in prison." Purple gripped at the edge of the table as his sister hopped up on top of a chair for a better look, shaking her head in appalled, sickened disgust as Pem tried to open his now swollen other eye and mouth something out through the agony. "I-I have some of Red's pain medication left that we can use! W-We didn't actually think he'd chose that option, ok?!" He stuttered as his anxiety spiked and shot through the roof. "We thought he was gonna walk away and never come back!"

"Damn, he smells disgusting!" Teem called from the other room, pulling her antennae back from the stench of charred flesh and iron reeking platelets bombarding her sensitive system. "How bad did you hurt him? It's times like this that I wish I could actually see because he probably looks wicked as hell. Someone describe him to me in detail, I wanna paint a mental portrait in my mind."

"Gross, Teem! That's just sick!"

"What? I like weird stuff, ok? You all know that by now!"

"Oh no! Oh no! I-I don't have any gloves to work on him with! H-he's gonna get his blood all over my hands!"

"Suck it up, Kez! You've touched way worse back a the bar!"

"I know but honey, this is a living person! What if...what if I dunno he bites me or something when I working on him?!"

"Why the absolute hell would he do that?! Geez, just stick your hands in there already!"

Red rolled his eyes and slammed his hands down on the edge of the table, staring everyone down and restoring order to the rapid chaos and disarray that was beginning to unfold in their kitchen. "Everyone shut up! He chose to have a clean slate with us and I gave it to him the way we all agreed! I've got my eye on him, but he's technically one of us now whether we like it or not according to Vortian social law so we're all even! Teem, go back to the back room and keep Nea and Lard Nar out of the way because if either one of them comes out here all hell is gonna break loose! Pur, find something for him to bite on and get my whiskey from the cabinet so we can start cleaning up this mess before it stains the floor! Kez, figure out what you can do and tell me what you need so I can have those idiots," he jabbed a finger at the guards who exchanged a look of unease, "find us some sedative or something from the medical kit they all keep stocked in their ship!"

Kez held up a hand with a sigh, collecting herself and shaking her head in sudden defiance. "No, I'll get it myself. I…I'll try my best to help him but if something goes wrong, you have to promise me you'll get him medical attention." She hopped down from her chair and bounded outside to where the police cruiser had been left carelessly open.

"Did I…um…." Pem slurred out, spitting blood to the side as Red hovered uncomfortably over the enemy he had never thought he would ever have to save. "D-do…you…b-believe me...n-now...? M-My apology…?"

Red glanced over his shoulder to where his partner had ducked behind the counter to hunt for what little alcohol they had left, popping back up with a tiny flask of amber whiskey Red kept hidden for chilly nights they wanted to spend together. He made sure no one was looking, internally kicking himself before hastily patting Pem on the shoulder as he squirmed incoherently and tried not to loose what little consciousness continued to slip through his quivering fingers.

"Yeah. I accept your apology, kid, but don't think I still don't hate your ass. I'll trust you when you prove it to me. But...welcome to the family."

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Oh boy oh boy oh boy! This was also fun to write! This ended up being much longer than I expected! This chapter is also unbetaed, so there may be spelling mistakes or grammar issues purely because I don't have a beta reader yet, still!

_**PLEASE READ:**_ Because our next update falls on Christmas, which is Wednesday, I will not be posting a new chapter on that day in order to spend that time with family and friends! I will be posting a new chapter on _**Thursday, December 26, 2019 at 10:00 pm CDT (UTC-5)!**_ I hope all of you have a happy holiday if you celebrate Christmas, and I will see you soon! Thanks lovelies!


	38. My Kind

Welcome back to this episode of My Kind my darlings! I am so happy you guys keep coming back as we get down to the end of things here 😊 This will be the **_LAST_** chapter in the main story, and then we will have an epilogue afterwards which will be super fun! That means we will have a total of 39 chapters. This has been an incredible journey and I'm so happy you guys love this as much as I do! Love you all angels!

CHAPTER IS UNBETAED. SORRY. THE LAST ONE WILL BE TOO SO MINOR SPELLING MISTAKES AND GRAMMER MAY BE PRESENT. THANK YOU FOR UNDERSTANDING.

**Chapter rated T for depictions of body modification, brief mention of past suicide, non-explicit nudity, brief heavy language, mild suggestive themes and general adult content.**

* * *

Here. Now. The potential end of the line for the family they had built.

Purple had woken up first, gently rustling his slumbering husband awake before dipping across the house as quietly as he could manage to poke into the guest room the Vortian prison system had allowed their captive to stay in until his trial the next day. Everyone figured he was going to be sent to death, a lost soul searching for redemption that wouldn't come far too late and destroyed in body and mind by his own creeping karma. It had been so dark and chilly that morning as he padded across the desolate floor and silently alerted the razed form of the half blind man he still hated more than anything as he sat up against his headboard in a sore, agonized fugue with his partner's arms slung around his waist. Pem had only nodded and brought his finger to his lips to hush Purple's hurried words, nodding painfully down to the tranquilly sleeping body of his tiny daughter sandwiched inbetween him and Lard Nar as she clung to his leg through the comforter. Teem and Kez were to stay behind for the trial and watch Nea, to take her to the local park and oversee her as she innocently played, unknowing of her renewed father's potential death sentence and the atrocities the man she looked up to had committed in his recent past. Still, they were a family within a family, a bizarre concoction of adopted love and renewed senses brought back from the darkness of the unknown and brought beautifully to the radiance of morality and unwavering light. It hadn't taken long for anyone to get ready, greeted by the clinking of plasma pistols against the fabric belts and buckles of Vortian security carefully guarding the perimeter of their home and ushering them out into the frigid air of dawn to the tiny police cruiser that would rocket them all off to the decision that would chance them all for the better…or worse.

Red had been completely silent as Lard Nar had been asked to change into his stately attire and help Pem slide his deep blue prison uniform back over his bloodstained sweater, zipping it up the front as a mark of servitude and incarceration that none of them knew how to feel about anymore. He looked disgusting at this point; a mess of charred, mangled flesh obscuring half of his face and improvised stitches messily closed over the now completely empty socket that once housed his obliterated eye. Kez had wrapped gauze around his thin middle to keep his deep gash clean against his clothing and every attempt he made at a smile showed off the disgustingly empty socket stamped in the front of his once perfect teeth. He was beautiful once, innocent and absolutely perfect in skintone and glittering eyecolor now reduced to nothing more than a culmination of his own dastardly, horrendous actions come back to haunt him. He didn't talk either through the half numb feeling of dead nerve endings dotting his form or the blistering feeling of fire ripping through his face at the fringes of his massive burn, instead choosing to stare halfheartedly through the windshield as the cruiser jetted away from Hatalca and out towards the coast to meet the Vortian High Court once and for all. Lard Nar had made a few feeble attempts at conversation, quieting down and letting his words die on his lips when he realized Purple had fallen back asleep against his husband's shoulder and Red himself was beginning to unwittingly doze in the pale light he hadn't been willing to awaken to. None of them were prepared to deal with the consequences of what Lard Nar had done to his administration in his cloning efforts, minds reeling so fast that they fluttered away to nothing more than a jumble of screaming thoughts drowning out one another the further they neared the craggily cliffs of the oceanside and attempted to sedate one another with forced warmhearted glances of false reassurance. Everyone knew that Pem was completely doomed. He was a dead man walking, destined to be plunged back into the swirling primordial waters oozing up from within the strange Vortian mantle never to surface again. He deserved it, and everyone knew that whatever he earned he would have to take gracefully. It wasn't his choice anymore, or even the choice of any of them at that point or the court of officials; they were merely there to act as representatives to usher in the light of the Great Universal Mother for her own divine intervention as to whether his and Lard Nar's souls should be spared.

Vort was ethereal. It was bizarre in the best of ways and technologically astounding, but absolutely, cosmically ancient and unlike anything Purple had seen in the cold, unfeeling cities of Irk. They had a special connection to the very lifeforce and twirling gaseous energy that had formed them all in the beginning and breathed the essence of sheer, misunderstood consciousness into every plant, animal, and rational being in the vast blackness cradling every orbit and nebula flittering aimlessly around them. They were the product of something none of them understood and had never seen with a direct line to heavenly, spiritual communication with an omnipotent force that had no name but did in the same breath. She was called She. She was called Bab Ut'alla. She was called the Irken Original. She was called The Great Universal Mother.

She was to decide if Pem deserved to live in freedom or die in custody. She was to decide if Lard Nar was to remain in power or be thrust out into the streets to tame the masses with no defense.

All they could hope is that she would be merciful.

The four had arrived early, landing alongside an infinitely steep cliff as Pem was forced to his feet and shackled once more, groaning under the nearly unbearable sting in his skull but still moving out of fear of what lay before him should he waver. Purple had shaken himself awake and taken Red's hand as the hatch fazed open and revealed the surprisingly sweet scent of the goopy black ocean splayed for thousands of hazy miles under an overcast drizzle, the beauty captivating him as he descended the steps with his partner and locked eyes with the gargantuan living mythos Red had showed him in flight months before. He longed to touch it, to bob amongst the unknown chemical swells of unadulterated, comforting darkness lapping enticingly at the smooth glittering stones of pure quartz and incredibly firm diamonds beneath their feet. The cliff itself was so infinitely vibrant it was almost like walking on untainted glass, a display of shimmering, delectable gorgeousness expanding endlessly beneath them down into the crust and showing off murky images of what lay miles below refracted back through millions of prisms as a flawless rainbow of pure light. Under different circumstances, this place would have brought tears to Purple's eyes as his partner grazed his knuckles with his thumb and stared out against the gentle breeze and the cooling rains against their skin at the amorphous eddy of raw natural supremacy beckoning them back to the landscape where they all belonged deep down at the very center of their technologically shrouded souls. He wanted to stay here forever, lost to the crystal throbbing with unpolluted vitality beneath his boots and feeding his body up his spinal cord, washing over his PAK in waves to soothe every ache in pain in his body as guards retrieved ceremonial dress and ancient oil lanterns from their cargo hold.

Purple had slung a deep black, velveteen shroud over the broad shoulders of his other half as Lard Nar helped his own, clasping Red's too short robe at the front and watching as he took on an almost glowing, stunning visage of vivacity that millions of other Vortians had taken on their annual pilgrimage to this sacred place. He shuddered as Red smiled back warmly and threw his hood up over his sensitive antennae, helping Purple to dress in return. Purple had leaned into his partner and fought back a slew of unexpectedly warmhearted tears when he realized that finally, after everything they had been through together as a family, as enemies and lovers, as friends and brothers…they _were_ all the same. The thump of gorgeous energy beneath their feet had uplifted them and wormed its way into every neuron in their biological brains as they pulled back and grasped for the ancient, worn handles of twinkling plasma lanterns to make the mile pilgrimage along the coast to the most sacred, guarded place in the whole of the cosmos.

The further Purple walked hand in hand behind his King and brother, the more he eyed the struggling yet astoundingly determined limp of his former enemy, and the more he felt his partner's grip soften against his to something reassuring and extraordinarily tender through their rain-slicked doubt, the more he realized that his epiphany was true. Every step against the firm crystal and glint of faint orange light against the stone as they trudged the countryside to meet the court wound deeper and deeper into them all as they exchanged tiny glances and noticed nervous, yet serene, twitches of hands in the pale peek of radiance cresting over the ocean thousands of miles away. Pem had begun to chant under his breath in time with Lard Nar, holding their lanterns out before them to placidly mollify any unseen demons that may be penetrating such a consecrated, hallowed circle and appease the millions of hidden nature spirits Red had read about in his books by lamplight at night to his partner. They didn't know the chants or the words to the primitive Vortian songs that began spilling in tandem from the lips of the horned beings ringing them as they fell in line, the two glancing up to the cloudy blanket spanning above them and watching the lazy patter of millions of ships hovering above in anticipation for their King to be judged by the very light of the Vortian High Court and Bab Ut'alla.

There was no race here.

Though no Irkens had ever been allowed to set foot in a holy, consecrated space such as this, Red and Purple weren't looked upon as Irken any longer. They had proved themselves to the public and the administration as formidable heroes and benevolent at heart, nullifying the fears and quenching the bloodthirst between their hardheaded peoples for good to live in harmony amongst the beings they had once mutually detested and loathed. They were men of two worlds; Irken in body and technology but now considered Vortian in mind and soul, integrating seamlessly into a culture profoundly different to their own stanch lack of spirituality and brotherhood to find it millions of miles away on a crumbling, dying world restored to the peak of lush, elegant sentience. Their lack of horns or milky green skintone no longer mattered, the way their antennae flicked and picked up every minute sound fascinated Vortlings in the best of ways, and their PAK technology made them no different to the billions of biological bodies living genially around them. Here, in the archaic, primal hum of strung together accents and lilting staccato bouncing over their quivering stalks as they were showered in sour smelling, flittering smoke to ritually cleanse them to meet the court, as they stooped on command and had their cheeks smeared with herby balms and pastes to ensure now foul spirits or luck would follow them beyond the threshold, Red and Purple were Vortian.

Red stuck out his tongue to the gritty feeling of salt and goopy herbs smacked up over his skin as he straightened back up and continued to follow behind the gently bouncing horns of his esteemed King and best friend. "This is kind of weird, Pur." He whispered under the droning throng of continuous song. "I feel like I'm in a cult or something."

Purple rolled his eyes and hushed him under his breath with a hiss, blinking when Pem glanced back over his shoulder with a tiny, one-eyed warning stare to urge them to keep their talking to a minimum as ritual words were exchanged to clear the air and raise the energy they would need to cross whatever threshold they were told about. "I know it's weird, but they requested us to be here so it's not like we have much of a choice." He mumbled back, turning to watch his lover out of the corner of his eye. "It's just one trial, Red, how bad could it be?"

Red shrugged under the thin flittering material of his robe, growing visibly uncomfortable with the amount of strange syllables grazing his senses that he didn't recognize as anything he had learned from his Vortian lessons. He wasn't even sure if they were Vortian to begin with, a concocted mix of startling yet otherworldly echoes of past formalized times leaking and bubbling up into the present to show off their unearthly, wraithlike beauty in the now. He couldn't think in the noise, feeling it almost become a part of his own carefully shrouded thought processes as he readjusted his loosening grip on Purple's hand when they neared a distant row of rigid cloaked figures, every bounce changing him at the molecular level and showing him the finer side of life he had previously never believed in. Red knew at his core that there was no such thing as deity; if there was a higher power, he wouldn't have been forced to suffer for as long as he had under the power and invisible thumbs of the now long deceased Control Brains or felt the need to turn to substance for even a twinge of happiness. Purple wouldn't have been brutally shamed for his concealed sexuality in the beginning of their friendship and would never have been forced to see the grisly horrors of bloody, organ spilling war. Lard Nar would have never been thrown in prison or have undergone the forced rape of his once prosperous planet as he lost everyone he held dear. Teem would never have to live in the world with dead eyes and a scar riddled back and Kez would never have been shamed for her diminutive stature in favor of her beautiful skills. And, Pem would never have been ruthlessly tortured for military advancement on Irk and his innocent daughter and wife would never have been ripped from his grasp, snapping his threadbare sanity and causing a booming chain reaction of mayhem and unneeded bloodshed throughout the star system. Red couldn't believe in a benevolent higher power like he had heard Lard Nar tell stories of how children still starved, women still felt pain, and men still died on the battlefield.

"Welcome."

Red blinked when he felt his partner's fingers slip respectfully away to fall at his side at the boom of a deep, resounding voice flooding the pinnacle of the gargantuan crystal cliff they had made their way to in the past hour. It was blinding, every ray of sunlight weaving through the light rain beaming back into the sky as an indistinct, magnificent foxtrot of wavering color and blistering spectrums of glowing celestial vapor licking around boots and ankles as Lard Nar helped Pem to the massive pedestal in the center of the icy clearing ringed with the staunch faces of the Vortian High Court. Each one seemed older than the last, grey and mauve skin dotted and painted with deepest stress wrinkles and beady eyes glaring back in unnerving hues from beneath dark, shadowy hoods as a guard cleared her throat behind them and ushered Purple and Red on together to follow from where they stood, wary of the unknown events to come. They took a tentative, joint step forward towards the incredibly massive, interstellar crystal protruding nearly a mile into the sky, its jagged tip obscured by the welcome comforter of clouds slowly peaking away to reveal the light of the powerful sun beating down upon them all and searing them into submission. It was by far the largest natural wonder either of them had ever had the privilege of witnessing first hand, a true marvel of the astounding, formidable abilities of mother nature to overshadow any form of unnatural technology popping up in cities to drown out the resonance of the planet. Purple was just as nervous as Red, following close behind and watching in utter confusion as Pem reached out with a shaky hand and placed his palm against a well worn area dug into the crystal with age, a place every other criminal and truth-seeker had the audacity to touch for thousands upon thousands of judiciously masked cycles. It was a wonder that Miyuki's Elite didn't destroy this sacrosanct place, leaving it completely intact for some unknown reason rooted deep in mind-numbing fear and utter, unbelievable respect even she couldn't surmount out of understanding that her own life would be in perilous jeopardy. Lard Nar did the same, falling in next to his now trembling partner as he took a deep shuddering breath and smoothed his palm up into a well-touched dip in the milky quartz as he flinched, glancing back for further instruction as Purple and his mate waited with bated breath and unnerved disorientation when the High Council began to mutter pointlessly under their antique breaths to one another.

"Please, take your places. We are excited to have your kind here with us today." A voice sounded from the head of the ring, stepping forward with a small nod beneath her hood when Red blinked and opened up an argumentative spat Purple wasn't expecting.

"What do you mean _our_ kind? Take our places for what?" Red asked suspiciously, eyeing the Head Judge with skepticism when she pulled back her shroud and revealed a curiously unanticipated young face of a woman barely past 200. She wasn't Vortian, but Inquisitorian, her bright cherry eye and feelers rubbing delicately as she looked Red head to toe with increasing curiosity.

Her face was painted with strange symbols and smeared with creamy white herbs neither of them recognized and her long eyelashes were coated in a generous layer of pastel glitter, her needlelike feet clinking delicately against the crystal as she moved forward to ignore Red's question completely and instead caress the gargantuan gem like a child. Her quivering mandibles shivered and her spine visibly twitched beneath her clothing as she let her great eye roll back in her skull, words spilling from her tongue in hundreds of dialects faster than any of them could possibly comprehend. The circle around them held firm, linking hands as Purple glanced in unnerved stiffness over his shoulder when the rest of the court bowed their heads in unwarranted, undying respect for whatever disturbing scene was unnervingly unfolding before their bewildered gawks, Lard Nar and Pem doing the same as the provisional prophetess writhed and twitched dexterously against the cool surface, moving forward to plant a kiss to the side of the crystal as a gargantuan pulse ricocheted in the form of a powerful flood of bright magenta light through the cliff followed by a ground shattering throb, nearly knocking Purple off of his heeled boots with a yelp of stunned surprise as he scrambled to grab at the crook of his husband's arm for leverage, swallowing his mounting anxieties when the Inquisitorian woman turned back with a glassy look behind her retina. A Vortian man broke the circle, bounding forward with a handful of light herbs and flower petals to scatter them over the prophetess's form as she took a deep, near bottomless inhale of the floral scent and nodded with an odd, otherworldly knowing that only set Red further on edge as he watched.

She brought a touch to her lips with a faint, motherly smile and silenced his ferocious inquisitiveness before he could snap once more, leaning forward to pierce his soul with her fervent gaze and feed on information neither one of them understood how she knew. "You're so full of anger from the hundreds of conflicts you've fought, Irken man. I can see every plasma shot flying from your pistol as you killed, every tear you shed for the children's lives you were forced to take, and every lonely night you spent drinking yourself to numbness because you couldn't handle what you'd done." She whispered, taking a few steps forward again speaking before Red could open up a hot, feral dispute at the private swathes of humiliating information being spread before him. "You hate yourself at your core," She mused, narrowing her eye before flashing him a loving smile, "and you are still addicted to sedatives no matter how hard you've tried to keep your tongue away from the. But…there's something else." She reached up and lightly prodded Red in the center of the chest with a pointed mantis-like appendage. "You are worthy to go."

She turned away from the look of stunned silence and instead eyed Purple, scrutinizing every nervous vault of his eyes and twitch of his fingers as he unconsciously moved further into Red's arm for warmth. "With you I can see internalized hatred and self-loathing for the creature you think you have become. You were so lost in the beginning, child, yet so aware of everything you were when you fell in love with an angry man who paid you no mind and first left you to your ways. You tortured yourself in the name of love and never once gave that very same feeling of acceptance to yourself." She brushed aside Purple's cloak as he jolted and opened his mouth to speak, blinking in shock when he found his voice had been disturbingly stolen by some unnatural force as he glanced to Red, noticing his husband had been trying to frantically shout something to no avail, reaching up to snatch at his own throat to try and massage the sound free with no success. "There is still some of that self-doubt lingering inside your heart and keeping you prisoner to your own uncertainties, but, I suppose you are also worthy of going."

Going where? Wasn't this supposed to be a trial for Pem? Wasn't this to determine if he was to return to prison or not? Why were he and Red becoming involved? What did all of this nonsense mean and how did this prophetess and High Judge know about their deepest, most guarded secrets and mistakes? Why were their friends digging their fingers into the colossal quartz spanning the atmosphere in front of them and why did it seem to have a mind of its own?

Uncomfortable. Visceral. Galactic. Eerie.

She took Purple's hands between her feelers with a gentle grin, trying to get pacify the mounting distress he felt for his voice having been so ruthlessly taken from his throat, following out of terrified respect for the strange judge's power as she guided him on to his place against the crystal and helped him to latch his claws against the smooth side before going back to Red and repeating the same. The two exchanged a look of utter terror as she extended up on her non-existent toes to pat them both gently against their balm smeared cheeks before moving joyfully on to Lard Nar, who held his breath in tentative anticipation for the bizarre evaluation taking place before the equally odd trial could begin.

"Ah, the new King of Vort." She chuckled airy, as he silently gulped and gave her a tiny nod to keep going. "You are so nervous about everything, always worrying excessively of what you are doing is right or wrong in the eyes of others and thinking that every time you indulge for yourself that you are somehow selfish. There is kindness in you, but you also allow others to trample you like an insect which is highly unfair to your own mental health." She brushed up between his horns and shrugged. "Your friends and family will help you see your own personal power in time. But, still, you are also worthy to go."

Lard Nar visibly slacked and sighed in relief, slumping against the surface of the crystal and flashing his tall brothers a wide-eyed beam that had them curling their lips in utter misunderstanding. None of this process had been explained; Purple had expected them both to waltz into a courthouse like the Spike of Judgement, watch Pem be ruthlessly grilled under a searing hot spotlight, and then heartlessly judged by the High Court for his wrongdoings before carting him away to his incarceration for the rest of his days. His daughter would go to Lard Nar like the two had agreed, and Lard Nar's political credibility would be forever tarnished for bringing back a terrorist no one had asked for. But this, this was transcendent, oracular, and alarming all in the same breath, a mashed concoction of ancient Vortian mysticism, judicial freedoms, and divine power rolled together to become something that any unsuspecting Irken would find erroneous. Pseudo-spiritualism wasn't present on Irk when the Empire existed, many Irkens believing that technology was the key to life rather than unseen forces that were unexplainable. But here and now, Purple didn't know what to believe, disturbed by the uncanny knowledge the Inquisitorian seeress had over his thoughts and terrified to think anything else should she somehow hear.

The seeress chuckled and gave him a playful wiggle of her feeler, alerting him that she could hear every question lilting and bouncing through his confused mind as she moved on to Pem at last, tutting her tongue against the roof of her mouth as she evaluated the extensive damage that had been done on his body the previous day from his karmic torture.

"Pem Goor, you are a true enigma." She shook her head teasingly as he tried to blink away his agony from his pounding skull. "You are not the worst here, believe me, we have all been forced to do terrible things. But, what appalls me most about your past is that you did these things under the guise and excuse that it was needed to perform revenge against those who wronged you, becoming wrong yourself." She whispered through the drizzle, watching as Pem attempted to open his mouth but failed. "You cannot continue on this path of self-destruction or you may not have another chance at the life you have been so graciously given. But," she took a deep breath and thought as the little Vortian waited with a sudden horror paling his wounded features, "She will allow you to go. This time."

The High Judge pulled away completely when Pem threatened to cry in reprieve, thankful beyond his wits for the opportunity he had been blessed with to move on to whatever trial they were going to together.

"The other three shall be along shortly. Don't worry, She has put them somewhere safe for the transfer to the Beyond." She explained, tapping carefully on the crystal and giggling when Purple's voice was restored with a gasp.

"W-What are you talking about, the other three? Where are you taking us?!" He blurted out on impulse, searching the young, genial face of the cosmic prophetess as she merely sighed in delight.

"You are going to have your souls weighed against the judgement stone. All seven of you who She has brought together from the moment of your birth. You were entwined to meet, you were destined to clash, and prophesized to save. And here you are, standing at the Trial I knew you would come to from the moment I was conceived and given rational thought, fulfilling your final purpose before you are released from the cycle of pain you have been tasked to endure for the cosmos." She breathed, leaning forward and smoothing over Pem's eyelid with her feelers as Purple watched through his escalating pulse as she leaned down and kissed him upon his lips.

A powerful, retina-searing, green light bounded forward from his palm and shot up the length of the crystal, illuminating the sky and the dissipating clouds as it rocketed off and out of sight, leaving his body to fall cold and limp against the ground as Purple cried out and pulled his hand free from the gemstone beneath his fingertips.

"What the hell?!" He shouted, reaching out and ripping his husband's hand away to clutch protectively at his wrist. "What did you do?! What was that?! None of this is making any sense with all this stupid talk of trials and then bodies are hitting the ground?! I'm not doing that!"

"Please," The High Judge remained patient and soft, "replace your hands on the transmitter so you can follow your brothers. Where they are going, is where you shall be tried in the name of your lives. Your bodies will be kept safe here in the circle with the High Court while you convene with Bab Ut'alla, and when she returns you, you will be placed in your proper vessel once more." She did the same to Lard Nar who took her touch willingly, letting his eyes flutter shut as she stooped to brush her mouth against his and spasmed, this time a bright yellow light flew forth and rippled beautifully up the length of the quartz as his knees buckled and he fell to the hard ground. "Which one of you would like to follow next? The others, Teem, Kez, and Nea Gen are already waiting to begin their assessment with your family."

Red threw his hands before him and shook his head in defiance, moving forward to glare down at the now indifferent seeress staring back up at him with an unmoved blink at his supposed threatening bristle. "I'm not going anywhere and neither is my husband. I'm not letting you touch him, and we're not doing any of this creepy Vortian bullshit. I don't care what you think you're trying to achieve with all these stupid magic tricks, but they're not gonna fool us." He grumbled irately, slinging his arm around his partner's hip to guide him on back down the coast. "Come on, Pur, we're leaving."

"I was hoping I wouldn't have to do this, but unfortunately, this way stings a bit since you're not touching the transmitter." The High Judge mumbled forlornly, reaching up as Red spun back around in confusion before snapping her fingers with a smile and watching as they both tried to shout before collapsing completely to the ground in a heap atop one another, two balls of bright violet and crimson light streaming forward and fazing through the powerful mineral and following the same path as the others.

The seeress stared up at the sky and let her smile fade, instead bringing her long feelers together with a slow blink and a thick swallow as she bowed her head in respect and went to collect the limp bodies of the accused.

"May the truth be shown."

* * *

Purple coughed when he was met with a face full of spongy dirt coating his teeth, immediately pushing up and spitting violently to the side when his body swallowed on impulse. He gagged a bit and plucked a pebble from his tongue in disgust, shaking the woozy, bizarre dissociation from his mind and immediately realizing that his partner had landed on his back when the seeress caused them to fall to their knees. He grumbled irritatedly under Red's weight and elbowed him hard in the side, feeling him groan at the stiffness in his bad shoulder and roll off to stare up at the now star speckled display unfolding above them. Purple couldn't feel his toes, rolling his ankles and digging his claws into the soft moss beneath him before freezing when he realized his clothing had been completely stripped away and he had been left completely nude.

Where…where were they?

What had the High Judge done to them all?

He began to panic, forcing himself up to a sit and realizing in utter dread that they were no longer on the diamond speckled, carbon cliffs of the Vortian coast but instead in the middle of a deep, yawning forest splayed with magenta foliage and thin trees waving gently in the sweet breeze. He closed his eyes and drank in the enticingly familiar scent he hadn't had the privilege of knowing for over a cycle now, almost immediately letting go of his abrupt fear in favor of taking in the gorgeous realizations he had dreamed about. It was Naphrus; fluttering velvet grass kissed at his naked body as he crossed his legs and stared up at the pristine Irken Nebula stretching infinitely in hues of violet and deep pinks, taking away his breath as the homesick tears he had held back for months threatened to spill out across his cheeks when Red too laid awestruck in the undergrowth cradling his spine. There was no pain here, every bodily ache moving down to Red's fingers as he sighed against the ground and rolled onto his side, letting every lingering twinge and remembrance flood away from his appendages and ground itself miles beneath him, leaving him completely free of the wartime shackles that had loitered in his bones and his devastated muscles for over half of his grueling life. Purple felt it too, running his fingers up over his massive scar to trace every raised bit of flesh he could find and smiling softly to himself when all his mind-numbing agony and memories of his time in battle were muted to leave behind only the warmest, most pleasant feelings he had ever known.

Happiness, elation, true love, brotherhood.

Red struggled to his feet, not bothering to cover himself as he glanced about apprehensively through the light in the trees and noticed that the rest of their family had been thrown into the bizarre reality they were now sharing together. Pem and Lard Nar mumbled under their breath as they came to, followed by a tiny sneeze from Nea from where she had landed in a soft floral shrub. Kez and Teem fought to maintain their balance against the moist, sun warmed dirt beneath their bare toes, antennae hard at work discerning the familiar sounds and sights of their home region with increasing curiosity and suspicion. Red frowned and extended a hand down to his mate, tugging him up and shrouding him away from the prying eyes of the world as he pressed their chests together and held him close, immediately trying to form a plan of attack.

"Where are we?" Kez piped up, clamping a hand between her legs with a humiliated peep of mortification when she realized the rest of her family could see her body. She screeched and bounded behind Teem who threw her hands on her hips as if she didn't care, scenting the air with her feelers and coming up short for what could have happened. "Don't look at me! D-Don't look at my bits! W-We were just getting ready to leave the house for the park when…when…I don't really know what happened!"

Teem stuck out her tongue to physically taste the atmosphere as Pem wheezed and forced himself up, blinking in confusion when he found the excruciating burn in his face had subsided. "Weird. This place smells like home." She breathed, leaning down to run her fingers through the grass, plucking a blade and bringing it to her mouth to suck on the saccharine liquid pouring from the cut. "Oh my Vort, it is home! We're home!" She exclaimed wildly, flying down and feeling for Kez as she shrieked and tried with all her might to keep herself concealed, spinning them around in the beautiful clearing as she laughed enthusiastically. "I can't believe were actually here! I don't even care how we got here all I want is for the bar to be cleaned up so we can get her back in business and-"

"I'm not sure this is home." Red cut her off, digging his claws protectively into the small of Purple's back as he placed his hands upon his shoulders. "It looks like it, and smells like it, but there's no way we're actually here. Irk was torn apart by canon fire and I've seen the pictures of what Naphrus looks like now. It doesn't exist anymore." He mumbled warily feeling his sensitive instincts begin to kick in as he scrutinized every falling leaf and every slight breeze. "Lard Nar, Pem, what the hell was that back there? What did that judge do to us?"

Pem sighed shrugged in equal bewilderment, staring up at his new family with a look of genuine perplexity glazed in his good eye. "I dunno. I've never been on trial and what I've heard about them is that you touch the crystal, kiss the lady, and then Bab Ut'alla sends her a message if you're guilty or not." He explained uncomfortably as Nea hopped down from the bush with a giggle and bounded over, unperturbed by her lack of clothing. "It's supposed to be a simple five minute thing where She evaluates all the witnesses and comes up with a verdict but…I don't even know where to begin with _this_." He grew twitchy and unnerved, gesturing shakily to the Irken countryside he had only set foot upon a few times. "This isn't…is this real? Are we all dead or something?"

"D-Dead?! W-We're dead?!" Lard Nar reached up and raked his hands down his face, scrunching into himself as everyone began to shift with quickly escalating terror. "Pem is this what it feels like to be dead?!"

Pem clenched his fists and began to pace. "How should I know?! I don't remember what it was like to be dead because…I was _dead_! I didn't have any memory because I was a rotting corpse!"

Kez shivered into Teem's hold. "But how are we here if you all were thousands of miles away at the coast?! We weren't in a teleporter or anything and I'm pretty sure no one knocked us our or kidnapped us!" A single horrified tear rolled down her cheek as she nuzzled against her wife's chest and threatened to give in to her terror. "I-I don't wanna die! I'm not ready!"

"I don't wanna die either!"

"Daddy, are we gonna die?"

"No, sweetheart, everyone else here is just a dimwit."

"Hey! Don't call me a dimwit, _dimwit_!"

"Great comeback."

"Vort, at least come up with something creative to call one another!"

"Everyone, calm down, this isn't getting us anywhere!" Purple snapped suddenly, raising his voice and immediately hushing everyone's incessant chatter as he pulled away from his partner and clamped a hand between his legs when Pem decided to evaluate him for the first time. He turned back to Red who had begun to try and get his bearings, scanning the sky and mapping out the stars in his mind, throwing his hands out in front of him in utter bewilderment when he noticed they were completely different than he remembered. "Honey, do you remember that book you were reading from the human world when we were still Tallest? I don't remember what it was called, but I'm pretty sure it talked how humans try to leave their bodies to go other places." He pointed out, watching closely as his partner ran through the massive amounts of information stored in his mind.

Red cocked his head when his antennae shot straight in understanding. "Hey, wait a minute, you're right!" He cried out, grabbing his mate by the shoulders with a wide grin of final understanding. "Pur, you're a genius!"

Teem groaned from behind, shying back when she felt Nea laugh to herself and skitter across her foot in the undergrowth as she innocently played with fallen leaves. "Geez, why don't you tell the rest of us, dumbass?" She demanded sarcastically, rolling her sightless eyes when she was sure her friend had shot her a look.

Red cleared his throat and spoke back up, glaring in Teem's direction for the entire duration of his strange, otherworldly explanation. "I had this book that talked about the methods of spiritual communication amongst planets around the universe. I don't remember where I picked it up or why, but there was a section in it about how Earthenoids can separate their soul from their body to travel to different existences." He paused for a breath, letting the information sink in as disoriented glances were exchanged. "They all call it astral…astral something. Projection maybe? I don't know but, if Purple is right, couldn't that be what's happening? The High Judge said we would return to our bodies after the trial was over."

Pem snorted in disbelief, shaking his head in incredulity with a flippant eye roll. "Ugh, that's ridiculous!" He laughed dismissively, stooping to scoop up his daughter in his arms when she grabbed up for his hold. "That's the most unscientific thing I've ever heard in my life! You really think that we'd leave our bodies just to come back to them later?"

Lard Nar blinked at the statement, walking between the two when they shot daggers in each other's directions. "Actually, it's perfectly logical. I brought you back from the dead." He pointed out, earning a confused gape from his partner as he tried to rationalize that he had been wrong for once. "And I watched your essence shoot up the crystal. I figured it was something theatrical to scare us into compliance, but I guess not."

Compliance? Was this all some strange, drug-filled tactic to gather information for the trial while they all slumbered together in some government controlled facility? No, Purple shook the strange connotation from his psyche as he continued to think things through rationally. This place was sensory; it smelled of sweet sugar, it felt of soft plants, and it glittered with immaculate starlight. The sounds were infinitely realistic down to the tiny insects buzzing aimlessly about their antennae, and the notion that they would all be able to converse actively in the same dream state was improbable. He grimaced, shrinking back into Red's shoulder and staring down at the familiar yet alien ground beneath their feet; this was real. They were all here together…wherever here was.

"Excuse me, if you're all done with your squabbling may I have a word?"

Everyone froze simultaneously, clinging to partners and eyes shooting wide when a small Vortian woman called out casually from the light undergrowth, waving her way around downed vines and protruding roots to step free into the clearing, the glow from the galaxy above illuminating her sparkling face as she sighed longingly and put her hands on her hips to look over each and every one of the beings she had waited so long to physically meet.

"Would you look at you all?" She sang beautifully, her voice echoing like a phantom throughout every nook and cranny in the cosmos around them before permeating the deepest reaches of their minds. "I'm so happy I could see this through."

"Who…" Red tried to speak up, immediately letting the words die on his lips when the being giggled and morphed before everyone's stunned eyes, stretching and contorting to take on the form of a tall, lanky Irken to better suit his stature. "H-How…how is that even possible?! What are you?"

The being wavered a bit more, observing every look of terrified awe before transforming yet again into the familiar face of someone long since passed on, a tall, cerulean man with an overdone crown and a vivid cherry eye raring for exploration and the coveting of fine art. Ab Seldhob. When the being spoke, it was not through his voice but it instead mimicked Purple's, stamping his high pitched whine throughout the whole of its vague explanation and tutting its tongue as it sat cross legged on the grass.

"There, this is an image that I know will make you all comfortable." Its voice switched again, bounding and leaping to pick up on Pem's nasal tone. "You are here because you are my kind. You are _all_ my kind, and you must be evaluated."

Kez broke free from her wife's hold, leaping down and landing on expert feet. "E-Evaluated for what, exactly, Mr…Mrs…yes?" She mulled around how to address the formless anomaly as it laughed through Sledhob's mouth and reclined back, crossing its legs and staring up at the stars.

"Ah, yes. I am the one they call She. I am the one they call Bab Ut'alla, the Irken Original, the Great Universal Mother, and billions of other long lost epithets. You may call me what you wish." She waved her false feelers about as She tried to figure out where to start. "This is technically the trial of Pem Goor for war crimes against his state, and the Vortian planet has asked for divine guidance as to whether or not he shall be pardoned. But, I could not pass up the opportunity to finally meet you all in person. I made you to be my kind, to do something important for me and undergo a journey unlike any other seen in our universe, and I want you to see what would have happened if you had not followed the course of divine intervention. Sit, please."

No one objected, sitting immediately on the grass and huddling together in mutual fear for the omnipotent, whimsical being unfolding and shimmering before them as they listened to the final tale that made everything come together in complete, utter harmony, shock, distain, and warmed everyone completely to the bone when they realized they were all meant to be together once and for all.

"I help everyone find their path and you all are no exception, with a tiny bit more importance than some. I wanted that small invader to open up the Florpus and show then Tallest Purple what death was like so he would appreciate life and realize he needed to spend that with his partner. He was so cold and lost to his own animosity and forbidden love that he needed that push to venture to Naphrus and save his now husband, Red, from the fear of being lonely and desolate for the rest of his life. If you two had not gone to Naphrus, you would have been assassinated in a week by Prime Minister Ab Sledhob's personal guard during a conference over leadership on Vort. War would have erupted and Pem Goor would have given up his plot to overthrow you to head a faction of rebel terrorists to take over the west half of the planet by force and drive out the Inquisitorians, while Lard Nar would battle for the eastern half in the name of peace with the Resisty. You would have met in the middle and Lard Nar would have fallen in battle by the accidental shot of the man who loved him from prison, causing Pem to spiral into disarray and heartbreak and take his own life in his stronghold three miles beneath the surface. Without their leaders, the Vortian rebel alliance would fall, and Inquisitoria and Irk would attack each other's planets, killing billions and destroying both Empires. Nea Gen would be sold off to the children's black market and ended up as a slave on Plookesia to a man who would eventually starve her to death and mine half of the gold deposits from Vort, crippling any chance of economic regrowth on the planet. Teem and Kez would be shot by Inquisitorian soldiers in an IRM raid of an Irken military outpost and drown in their own blood. Racism would be rampant, the star system would fall into unbalance, planets would fight for control and annihilate whole races, and the Control Brains would sweep through the chaos and commandeer the rest of Irk and use the bodies of survivors to enslave everyone they came into contact with. Need I say more?"

Silence.

No one spoke for a long while, keeping to themselves as they watched in stupefied disbelief as the perfect mirage of Sledhob sat up with a sly nod. "Yet, you did not follow what you were destined to do, now did you? Why is that?" She waited for an answer, pushing herself up to her feet when She received none. "I did not want to see billions upon billions of my children die at the hands of something so unavoidable, so I altered the course of things a bit with that dastardly space hole. I'm sorry that you all had to endure so much pain, but your heroism has prevented one of the greatest catastrophes to date that even I can remember. I had to wait and see where you took things from there and I could not be…prouder. You really are my kind."

"Prouder? _My_ kind? I don't understand." Pem breathed, shooting up when She beckoned him forward.

"Yes, my kind. A group of souls destined for greatness and willing to give up everything to save one another." She reached out and tapped Pem between the eyes when he reluctantly moved forward on shivering feet, squeaking in terror when She pulled up a massive screen of all of every memory he had ever had, looking them over with eager, judgmental scrutiny and the occasional nod. "You, Pem Goor, shall be pardoned by your people and walk free. In three cycles time you shall finish a full cycle of community service, reintegrate into society, attend the university of Hatalca for film and media and become…ah. This is quite unexpected now, isn't it?"

Pem swallowed, glancing up with his good eye at the eerie, planetary smile glittering back at him from above. "Is it bad? I-Is it that bad?" He mumbled under his breath, preparing for the worst as he squeezed his eye shut, allowing it to shoot wide when the ancient being chuckled.

She shook her head with a tiny giggle of amusement at the unneeded fear lacing his vision. "Oh, no, my darling. You'll become a successful talk show host for a Hatalcan television station. Your partner told you once that you're great with words, and you'll captivate millions with your sharp tongue and your charm. Please, however, stay on your medication and keep that tongue at bay when it's needed. Alright?"

Pem pulled away from She's feeler and stumbled back, landing hard on his side as he burst into tears at the incredible weight of death flooding away from his shoulders. "Y-You…thank you! Thank you for sparing me! I-I don't deserve this at all I don't-"

"I didn't spare you." She cocked her head in confusion, glancing to Lard Nar and snapping for him to walk forward, amused when he stumbled along gracelessly. "I don't understand you beings sometimes. You were made in the image of my people, but we are not gods; I am the one designated to evaluate your quadrant and keep balance here." She paused, tapping Lard Nar between the eyes as well and grinning when his thoughts were splayed for everyone to see. "We evaluate your existence and predict what is to happen based on your actions. Of course, we have some influence to sway what those actions may be, but the choice is ultimately up to you. Pem Goor, you saved yourself when you apologized and took the nasty beating you did."

Lard Nar held his breath when She bent down to look him over from behind his goggles, scrutinizing every nervous flicker of his eyes as he twitched and wrung his hands, trying to keep up with the blur of images flashing over the manifested screen.

She watched carefully, admiring every streaking color and flash of teeth. "You will also be pardoned for your actions and retain the love of the public. The Irken half of the planet will come to accept you as their leader once more in time, you will marry Pem Goor, attend several wars, and survive. Nea will be your adopted daughter with your husband and you shall both teach her the Vortian language on top of the Irken she knows." She giggled and let go of Lard Nar's face, growing bored with Sledhob's image with a yawn and transforming into the image of a human woman none of them recognized. "You will be alright, my son. Please don't worry too much about the little things anymore, alright?" She caressed down the side of his face in reassurance, lingering against his skin as he folded into her touch and let go of his internalized fears.

Lard Nar exhaled long and low, nodding and moving back when Nea bounded forward with excitement for her own turn despite her misunderstanding. "Oh! Oh! I wanna go! I wanna go! I wanna see the stuff too!" She screeched excitedly, grinning up when She barely touched her and immediately competed the sequence of her short life, watching as Nea's face fell flat in disappointment.

"Sweet child, you have not made enough decisions for me to see your course of action yet. All I can see is that you and your father have a chance at happiness now, and that you will never be alone again in this world." She breathed, stooping to press a gentle, tender kiss to the tip of Nea's budding horn as she wrapped her arms up around the strange being's shoulders, letting go with a toothy grin before bounding back to where Pem had taken Lard Nar's hands in his, leaning in to place a tender, slow kiss to his lips and seal their future together for the rest of their days.

She glided like air, twirling through the renewed hope growing in the clearing and stopping to hover above Kez, transforming into the vision of a small Irken male shorter than her by an inch, warming the officer's heart when she realized for once in her life that she felt taller in the moment. "Let's have a look at you, dear." She mused, quickly folding through Kez's anger filled tears at being too short for the Armada, her despondent time working in food service, and her profound love in finding her life mate. "I like you…Kindness is your greatest virtue. You and your wife will move down the street from your friends to have a home of your own where you will live until the end of your days. You will become a five star officer in the Royal Vortian Military as a communications specialist and you will remain in the top of your field until your retirement. Then, you will open a bakery from your home and sell the best strudels in Hatalca."

"Really? Y-You think they'll be that good?" Kez purred with a yawn, watching in peaceful confusion as Lard Nar, Pem, and Nea all proceeded to lay down and tranquilly fall asleep in the grass, fading out to nothing and disappearing gently from view as she too lowered herself down and reclined against Teem's bare leg.

"I know so, lovely." She reassured, turning into the spitting image of Utna and reaching up once more so brush back Teem's antennae as she shuddered serenely into the loving waves rushing down her body and showing off every idiotic thing she and Red did in the Smeetery as children, her first flight as a commander, and her dastardly time in the IRM trying her best to make a difference through illegal means. "Mm. You're a tough nut to crack, aren't you, Teem? Then again, that's how you always have been, isn't it? You will gain your sight back soon, my dear, when a doctor in the city develops new ocular implants for Irken patients struggling with sight malfunctions. You'll be able to fly again with your good friend, Red, and will join the Royal Military as a commander because you're bored with being retired after having seen how fun the toils of war have been for you. When you retire again, you'll help your wife with her pastries and write a novel about your time in the IRM that will become a bestseller."

Teem grinned, biting her lip as she allowed herself to be drug down by Kez, planting a victory kiss to her lips as they wrapped their arms around one another and were overcome by the incredible innocence of the moment unfolding around them. Every puzzle piece was clicking back into place, the two fading away into each other's grasp as She nodded in approval and turned finally to the only two Irkens left in the clearing.

"What am I going to do with you two?" She whispered, taking on the image of Purple's own visage and grabbing Red around the waist against his will, twirling him out into the swirling glass as She giggled and threw her head back at the awkward gawk plastered over his face as he tried to turn to Purple for help, looking away for one second before moving back and locking eyes with himself. "You've always been one of my favorites, Red. You're so worn out but still so absolutely strong." She chuckled, tugging him into a loose embrace as She watched Purple over his shoulder with a loving, affectionate half smile. "I've watched you two ever since I was given control of this part of the universe and I knew you would be destined for greatness under the right circumstances. I hate to say it, but you needed to be broken in order to heal properly for the first time." She took Red by the hand and brought him over to where Purple stood, flying up to tap them both between the eyes at the same time and watch the glorious, long, sometimes harrowing life they had built together.

There was war. Screaming. Bloodshed. Plasma fire. Pills. Alcohol. All of Red's vices streaming in rapid succession as She watched carefully and evaluated the worth of his soul, ticking off every bad thing he had ever done and weighting it with the good as images of his terrible expansion as Tallest came next, watching as he threw empty cans in the faces of his subordinates and laughed at his service drones when they tripped out of sheer exhaustion. Purple was no better, cowering on his own and shrouding his secret love interests as a mechanic, dodging service, and fighting violently with Red as they exchanged words of malice as Tallest before becoming good friends and torturing those around them for the sake of the fun of it. Then, came the anguish in Naphrus, the disgusting, visceral, gory explosion of the Massive, and the war that they had fought together to overcome everything they both feared more than anything. But, sprinkled inbetween, there was a bottomless, undying, persistent feeling neither one of them managed to fight off no matter how many others had told them they would never make it…love.

Love.

She took special care with them both, slowing down every memory the two shared slow dancing in their room at night because they wanted to feel close, every tiny gift exchanged just because, every amorous, incredibly gorgeous kiss planted against eager lips after their radiant ethereal marriage because the spark between their beating hearts had never died down. All they could do was watch, standing nude in the warmth of the false Irken summer swirling around them like the caress of an ancient mother, entwining fingers and bringing soft lips together when She stopped on an image of the two in the Spike of Judgement overcoming their deepest, most grisly, horrific fears as they stood before the Control Brains and shared the monumental kiss that shattered what little respect their people had for their position as Tallest, labeling them as social pariahs and exiling them a full cycle in advance when they would be officially asked to leave by force. They had done that over the Intergalactic News, splaying their relationship for everyone to see regardless of the consequences, reminding them both how far they had come for the sheer, unabridged feeling of a devotion so pure, so unadulterated that they would rather die than never be next to one another as the flawless halves to a whole.

Red felt his partner cry against him, sniffing and reaching up to wipe away his tears from his flushed cheeks before Purple closed his deep violet eyes and brought their foreheads together to listen to the beauty of what She had to say about their future.

"Red, I won't lie to you, you're going to struggle with drugs for the rest of your life. You will get high again." She whispered as they snuggled closer to one another and smoothed up over gentle, delicate shoulders, noticing the strange formless feeling within their stilling chests grow as She gave them their final proclamation and freed them from the cycle of destined war and torment they had finally beaten once and for all. "But, you will have your husband here to keep you safe. Look at me, son."

Red didn't want to pull away, grinning into the feeling of Purple's soft lips against his cheek as he turned with wide, curious eyes to where he stared back at himself. "You mean we-"

"Yes. You'll be together happily until the day you die. You will have your ups and downs, you'll have a bit of financial trouble at first, but you will grow to live comfortably and peacefully on Vort until you die. When the Vortian Relief Movement is no longer needed, Lard Nar will ask you to join the Royal Military as his General where you'll lead successful campaigns and come home safely to your husband. You'll be very popular with the crowds, you'll run a summer camp for children after you retire to teach them how to fly, and you'll be….oh. Oh! Oh my, this is unexpected!" She pulled back in shock, immediately closing off the string of memories as Red was overcome by a bizarre sleepiness unlike any other, folding into Purple's hold as he yelped and tried to keep his weary partner upright, panicking a bit when his form wavered and faded in his grip, fading out to nothing and slipping away like the others.

"Wait! Wait, Red? Red?!" Purple glanced about the clearing as he called, looking back to where She had grown flustered, shrugging a bit and letting her eyes trail down to his abdomen as she thought. "Why did he disappear where is he? Where is everyone?"

"Hush now, love." She whispered, trudging over in the false body of his lover to graze a palm over his tear streaked face, looking deeply into his eyes with a profound adoration and boundless pride for who he had grown to become. "None of you will remember anything after this. I brought you here to release you from what you were destined to achieve and allow you to live normal, happy lives as a family. You deserve that, Purple of Veloria. You deserve that." She leaned in and wrapped her arms up under his, squeezing him tight as She took a deep, shuddering breath at the anticipation of what was to come.

Purple rested his chin on the shoulder of the guardian that had watched over him for cycles without his knowledge, feeling genuinely, truly safe in her hold despite not knowing her true name or origins. She was She. She was the Universal Mother, the Irken Original, Bab Ut'alla. She was the guardian of them all regardless of where they came from or who they were, who they had hurt or who they had helped, and she was the cosmic mother Purple had always secretly hoped he had somewhere out there in the stars.

"So, I won't remember you?" He mumbled against her skin as she grazed her fingertips along the edge of his PAK. "I won't remember any of this? What will I think happened?"

"You'll remember…one thing. We'll get to that in a minute." She whispered sheepishly, pulling back and retrieving his memories once again from his mind. "When you wake up back at the transmitter on Vort, you'll just think that Pem was pardoned by trial like you should. He's misguided, darling, so try to give him some extra support in this liminal time and keep him on the right track to his destiny."

Purple swallowed and reluctantly nodded at the thought of having to be nice to someone once so terrible, looking back to the flickering screen behind her as She grazed the surface with her palms. "Aren't you lonely here?" He asked suddenly, the question spilling from his tongue against his will and immediately sinking into himself when he realized how unnecessary it was. "Ah…I'm sorry. That's personal, I guess."

"I'm not lonely." She replied genuinely, urging him to relax with the sincerity in her voice as she sighed and weighed his soul's worth. "I meet everyone when they die, sometimes we meet earlier like now, and we get to be good friends when they move on to the Beyond. We have dinners and we dance and have fun like a massive community." She giggled and sat on the tenderly flittering grass, enjoying the wind on her face and delighted when Purple joined her. "Ab Sledhob is there and he's a riot, always telling stories to the younglings who passed on early. Utna was reunited with her father Hoc Nulol, and Urb Yen and Slad Nuch cook together every Friday."

Purple couldn't help but chuckle a bit, watching as a beautiful, fast-paced meteor shower opened ahead and lit up their faces with streaking colors, casting shadows gently over their angular features. "So…when we die everyone goes to the same place?" He didn't understand, thinking back through what he had been taught as a smeet that they rotted in the ground and their PAKs were then transferred to a new body. "What about Irkens? We're given life through cloning and PAK technology. We usually take a new body when-"

"You only took a new body because your Brains told you to." She retorted, laying back with a flippant yawn to admire the flaming balls of ice and fire juxtaposing together through her fake, makeshift atmosphere. "You were once born the way all others were, with a mother and a father, but your ancestors thought it would be more efficient if you became half machine. Your bodies were created for warfare and prolonged life, but do you truly understand the beauty of life?"

Purple thought a moment, running over every tiny Smeet he had the privilege to meet on the planet after they had defected from the horror that Irk had become. They were all so innocent now that they weren't training constantly for bloodshed, poking at shiny things and toys like the rest of the children on Vort and being scooped up by improvised parents across the countryside to raise like Vortlings. They were interesting, strange, and infinitely curious about everything around them, something that Purple himself didn't remember feeling as a child. All he remembered was the cold touch of a robotic appendage, the rolling band of a conveyer belt, and the excruciating fit of a PAK to his back to give him "life." Now that the Control Brains were dead and gone, PAK technology had become a vessel purely to house the personality of an Irken and all of their equipment; there was no more body regulation, no more mind regulation, and no more controlling of the senses like had become so typical of his society before. They were free to feel powerful emotions such as love and anguish, pain and sickness, need and longing.

Was this…life?

He shook his head, coming back to the shock that She had experienced at looking at Red's own lifetime in the future, frowning when he realized she hadn't told him the whole of what was to come. "My husband…you didn't tell him everything. Why?" He muttered under his breath, falling back to her level. "Is there something bad coming in his future you didn't want him to know about?"

She saw the misperception flash over her son's face, rolling onto her side to swipe a soothing touch down his arm as he thought. "Let's talk about your future, shall we? Then, things might make more sense for you two. I…hm. I never like having this talk because I never know what kind of reaction people will have to things like this. Sometimes it's ecstatic elation, other times it's despondent depression." She began, propping herself up on her elbow as she spoke. "You will remain on Vort with your husband until you both are gone, building up your little home with pictures of your wedding and having date nights like you both enjoy. You personally will become so well known for your skills as a mechanic that you will work on the vehicles of the Vortian Aristocracy and become a designated stop for all career politicians stopping through the capitol. But…there's something else that I didn't expect to see. I never thought about it after the Control Brains were deactivated and their influence was removed from your technology that something like this could even conceivably happen, but I should have known."

Purple grew uneasy again when a flushed color flooded up to She's face, coating the image of his husband with a bright, uncharacteristic pink that was almost hilarious to witness. "It's nothing bad is it?" He desperately wanted to know, wanted her to scratch the itch deep inside his mind and finally pacify his disturbed discomfort, freezing when She reached out and placed a shaky palm over Purple's abdomen.

"Here."

"…What?"

"It's here."

"What's there? Am I sick?"

"No. But you're going to change. Your life, and the life of your husband, is going to change for the better for what I see. All of the Control Brain's blockers inside your hardware were removed. Medical blockers, psychological blockers, _and_ breeding blockers."

Purple nearly choked, shooting up almost slipping down the gentle slope they had decided to lay upon. He clamped a hand over his mouth as his thoughts raced with harrowing, unexpected possibilities for what the wraithlike creature could mean, settling on the same damming conclusion each and every time as he cycled back through his personal timeline in his mind. No. That was impossible. Sure, Irken males held both male and female biology, but it didn't work that way. The Control Brains had deemed it to where breeding was defunct, completely extinct and rendering the race infertile to the extreme for hundreds upon hundreds of tedious cycles.

The Control Brains were no longer.

Their policies and influence were no longer.

Did that mean…did that mean….

"Do you understand?" She leaned forward and took Purple lightly by the shoulders, running her comforting touch up to his jawline as he started to cry, slinging himself forward around her formless, ever changing body and feeling the same scars dotting his husband's back under his fingertips as he grappled with what the world-shattering news meant. "I didn't want to say this before your mate, even if he will forget, because this is your news to give."

"What news?" Purple could barely squeak the words out, a flushed wave of terror combined with a strange, otherworldly happiness almost knocking the precious wind out of him as he sobbed openly into the bare shoulder of his interstellar mother. "I-I…I never thought…when is it gonna happen?!"

She shushed him leisurely, brushing over his antennae as his mind swam with torturous overtones and swelled with gorgeous reverberations alike, a firestorm of clashing emotion swamping him down in his own sticky tears and shuddering shoulders as his PAK alerted him to his failing cognition. "It's happening now. This is the one thing I want you to remember when you leave this place; that you're going to be a parent to you your husband's smeet."

Purple pulled away, feeling his insecurities melt away into something deeper and substantially more profound as it leaked into every crevice of his being and filled every cell with a glowing radiance that he couldn't fathom. He brought a hand down to his abdomen and caught himself smiling through his blinding tears and bleary eyes, utterly shocked and floored with thick disbelief and skepticism, terrified of how he was to care for a life so tiny, but oddly, excruciatingly excited beyond his rational belief as he threw his head back and yelled to the glittering cosmos around them, screaming and laughing out every thrilled, eager noise bubbling up in the back of his throat.

"You won't have to worry about PAK technology. I remember natural born smeets when Irkens were first formed from carbon and hydrogen, before the Control Brains demanded those be fitted to your biology to control you." She laughed over his enthusiasm when he burst into another round of untamable tears and clamped his hands over his eyes.

"H-How?! _How_?! My…m-my smeet is gonna…oh Vort I'm having a smeet!" Purple shouted on a repeated loop through choking sobs and giddy, adrenaline fueled giggles. "W-We…we…Red and I…just…holy shit! How? Red is gonna be a _father_?! I-I'm gonna be a father?! But I don't know how to be a parent! T-that's not in my coding!" He peeled his hands away and blinked away his salty smokescreen, feeling his core warm when She laid him back down in the grass and pressed a slow, lingering kiss to his forehead before using the long fingers of his husband to dry his raw cheeks.

"It's in your DNA…_love_. That's what you're made of now and," she snaked a hand down to his bare stomach as he began to lull and drift off, fighting against the heavy, swimming feeling of infinite sleep taking his mind and cupping it in its affectionate hands, "so is this one here. I'm proud of you for saving billions because you've been so brave, but I want you to have the life you deserve now. The pain is over, the violence is over, you will never have to kill again. Your husband will be a pilot in the military but will return safely to you, and your daugh-…I mean your smeet will grow up to be safe and healthy with the most courageous, loving parents I will have created yet."

"W-what? Did you say..._daughter_? I-I...my...where…where am I?"

"Don't worry, you're going home now. Rest, darling…rest."

* * *

"Purple, come on."

Purple jolted from where he had been sitting, blinking the sleep from his eyes and swallowing his disgust when he noticed he had been drooling down his chin. Ugh. He glanced about, shivering in the abrupt cold wind of the coast and looking up when Red extended a happy, gracious palm down, hoisting him up with a grin from the hard backed crystal he had dozed off on.

"Geez, you idiot. You slept through the whole trial." Red chuckled, guiding his exhausted partner on towards the edge of the cliff as Pem and Lard Nar were met with the chatter of thousands of reporters swarming around their police ship, all trying to snap a prime photo of the new couple in the light of Pem's pardon.

Huh. Pem had been pardoned. Purple frowned when his husband moved his hand to the crook of his elbow as they strolled, overlooking the gorgeous, deep obsidian of the ocean below. It was almost as if a crushing weight had been lifted from their lives as his mind cleared and a fog lifted, the two passing by the High Judge on her way out of the consecrated circle as she flashed a strange, uncanny blink in their direction and hurried on out of sight with her entourage. Something felt…no. Purple didn't know what he felt. He lowered himself down when Red moved to the dangerous edge of the highest peak in the drop-off, dangling his legs over the smooth crystal and placing a hand over his partner's as they watched a gaggle of chipper seafaring creatures jump from the cavernous gelatin staring back up at them and splash back down as they cackled and played.

"Hey, Pur?" Red mumbled under his breath, tightening his grip on his lover's hand as he looked up. "I have a feeling things are gonna be way better for us now. I'm not sure why, but there's just something that tells me we're gonna be ok."

Purple met his deep, crimson gaze, remembering the first time he had ever had the privilege of seeing them, tracing every minute color shift behind his ocular lenses and grinning into the soul-piercing beauty of absolute, pure love shining back at him. "I'm glad you ended up being my kind, Red. I never told you that but…" He trailed off when a switch flipped in his memories, pulling his hand away and smoothing up over his abdomen through his long black cloak, digging his fingers into the tiny, firm pit in his stomach and letting his jaw go slack with an unanticipated tremor he hadn't been prepared for. "Holy…holy shit." He breathed, letting his eyes snap back up as Red eyed him suspiciously.

"Are you…alright?" He chuckled out his confusion, halfway choking when Purple reached out and slung his arms around his neck, holding him tight and burying his face in his partner's jaw as he came to the gorgeous, primitive, absolutely weightless realization that his sudden epiphany was true.

It was true.

All of it.

All of what?

Did it even matter now?

Purple smiled against Red's skin when he warmheartedly returned the embrace and pulled his partner in close, pressing their chests together and feeling his powerful pulse thumping in time with his through his PAK.

"I'm fine, Red. And…we're gonna make it. Teem and Kez are gonna be fine, Lard Nar and Pem are gonna be fine with Nea, and," he pulled back and leaned in, pressing a light, ecstatic kiss to his mate's lips and giggling when he flicked his antennae forward to savor the feeling.

"We're gonna be ok, now, as long as we have each other…all three of us."

* * *

THIS WAS THE LAST MAIN CHAPTER OF MY KIND LOVELIES! LIKE IS SAID, WE WILL HAVE AN EPILOGUE AFTER THIS TO CHECK UP ON HOW EACH AND EVERY ONE OF THESE WONDERFUL CHARACTERS ENDED UP, SO I HOPE YOU TUNE IN FOR OUR FINAL UPDATE!

**I have a holiday function to go to soon, so our FINAL update will be on;**

**Monday, December 30, 2019 at 10:00 pm CDT (UTC-5)! I love you all and I hope you join me for the last update soon!**

I'll be making another standalone RAPR fic after this one! I'll be filling a few requests from viewers,_** but also publishing a fic called "Fire in the Snow" which features Purple and Red meeting on the battlefield as cadets in the Elite. I can't say much else, but it'll be dark, somewhat sadistic, but also romantic (I can promise scenes too for those who want them) and will carry that signature dreary, desolate vibe of Charlokitty work! Love you all and that will be going up on January 1, 2020 at 10:00 pm CDT (UTC-5) and will take over the My Kind schedule if you're interested!**_


	39. Epilogue

Welcome to the final chapter of My Kind! This one will be short, since it's an epilogue, and I really do appreciate the journey you guys went on with me together! I love all of the guests, all of the reviewers, all of the anonymous ghosts that made this possible. I could never have finished this without your support and I can't believe you guys liked this as well as you did. I've cried twice actually trying to finish this because I'm sad that it's over, but really, you guys mean the world to me.

I'm terrible and self promoting like a jackass, but I will be coming out with a new, major, standalone RAPR fic called "Fire in the Snow," featuring military advancement, forced marriages, and a cocky Elite General falling in love with a cadet he becomes stranded with after a flight crash on the battlefield of a frozen wasteland. But the cadet is way more than he seems and has a bit of an unexpected past and an even stranger future. This fic will be rated M, like this one, and will take over the My Kind schedule of Wednesdays and Sundays at 10:00 pm CDT (UTC-5), and the first chapter will be up on Wednesday, January 1, 2020 at 10:00 pm CDT (UTC-5)! Sorry I'll stop self promoting like an idiot and let you get on with the story!

**Final chapter rated T for light language, potential suggestive themes, and general adult content.**

* * *

**Four cycles into the future; the outskirts of Hatalca**

"Yes! That looks amazing! I'm pretty impressed you managed that with only one eye." Purple chuckled up at where Pem stood precariously atop a wobbling ladder, trying his best not to slip as he tacked the final strip of colorful streamers up over their foyer.

"Yeah, well, I've had lots of practice." Pem laughed back, slowly descending and running a hand up over his massive facial scar before stepping back and throwing his hands on his hips to admire his handiwork. "I'm the only one brave enough at the station to string up the lights, so I'm not afraid of heights anymore."

Purple grinned, reading over the banner they had painted together earlier that morning as the still moist Vortian script glistened in the afternoon light. He didn't want to look away, sighing long and low as the words ate at his resolve and forced an eager shudder down his spine.

_Welcome home, Red._

Red had been gone for nearly a full cycle to the ruthless Callnowian front after he received his commendations from King Lard Nar for his service to the Empire, receiving his opulent ribbon bar and his five star rank as General of the Imperial Fleet. Purple had been incredibly proud but apprehensive, knowing his husband would be engaging in massive interplanetary warfare with the enemy when they attempted to overtake Vort's natural gas reserves to combat their own slipping supply, bombing cities and setting crops ablaze to burn through their food supply. Lard Nar had gone to war first, streaking into battle with his men to head the first wave of retaliation alongside Fleet Commander Teem and her renewed, gorgeously deep green ocular implants. Together, the two had obliterated half of the Callnowian resistance, calling Red to action when Kez had received intelligence that their opponents were hastily planning to mount a large scale EMP detonation over the capitol and take all Vortian technology on the surface offline. Purple knew deep down that his partner would have to leave; it was in his blood to fly and to rain justice down on the doomed heads of his targets, straightening his collar and carefully pressing his uniform the night before his deployment as Purple sat up with him through the night and watched every flutter of his calloused hands smoothing over the deep crimson of his jacket as he hung it carefully along the backside of the hatch to their bedroom and moved on to tack his impressive ribbon bar over his sharp pocket. Purple had cried when he read over his husband's orders, landing on the damming number he had feared more than anything; he would be leading the Imperial Fleet on to victory as they targeted strategic bases and pummeled the planetary surface and surrounding moons…for eleven estimated months.

Red had watched in forlorn distress as his partner broke down over his reader, continuously checking the plasma canister in his side pistol before obsessively sharpening the thin titanium of his boot knife in preparation for his deployment. Eventually, Red had given in to his emotions and moved to sit next to his gently sobbing partner and run his hands tenderly over his distended, firm abdomen, knowing that his mate was reaching the end of his long, three-cycle gestation period and that he would most likely miss the coming of his daughter into the world. They had held each other close that night, Red's palms trailing expanses of glowing skin and tracing Purple's side scar as his partner did the same, touching every inch of Red's body he could find and desperate to keep him forever in his protective, shrouding hold for fear that he would slip away.

When the morning came, Red dressed in silence as Purple watched through the pale glimmer of dawn peaking through their metallic blinds, slinging his leather holster around his waist and snapping it securely in place before lacing up his knee high boots and re-polishing them to glittering perfection. Purple had pushed himself up from their tangled mess of sheets to help straighten the thick canvas of Red's beret over his antennae, peppering desperate kisses over his lover's neck, every one feeling like the last as he tried not to cry for the thousandth time his husband leaned down to gently kiss his belly through his gown and whisper sweet nthings to the smeet he longed to hold. Pem had agreed to venture off to their home to help Purple with daily chores before he was expected at the Hatalca Station to film his boisterous nightly talkshow, stretching up to hold Purple's hand as Red blew him his last tear-filled kiss in person and rocketed off into the cosmos to annihilate all those threatening their safety.

Then...he was gone.

After that it was all video calls and silly recordings of Red sending him jokes from his barracks aboard Lard Nar's gargantuan flagship as Purple overnighted him homemade snack cakes and waffles for breakfast before he was expected to lead the front into action. It didn't take long to hit the local news, Red's scarred face plastered over every headline as he continued to destroy and maim the standing resistance with full force, unleashing literal hell down upon all those that threatened his homeworld with blistering plasma fire and booming canons ricocheting back and sending formidable vibrations through his body. Purple could see the determination and glittering fervor behind his eyes as the sunkissed atmosphere of chilly Callnowia reflected back off the snow and tanned his husband's imperfect skin, leaving their King with a hilarious ring of light grey stamped over his eyes from where his goggles improved his vision. Pem was a surprisingly great help around the house, obsessively sweeping floors and trimming the now adult tree in the back yard when it threatened to fall lopsided over the roof of the house, all the while bonding with Purple and reassuring him that their partners would both return safe. Pem's destroyed sight had prevented him from enlisting in the military, investing his time in his gossiping, comedic show and the care of his daughter he always brought by as Purple learned parenting tips in preparation for their own little life to come into the world.

Red asked on the daily about their progress with their mysterious little smeet, grinning vibrantly when Purple would set up his transmitter on the nightstand and move back a few feet to show off the back-breaking bulge that he'd had to carry for just over three cycles, giggling when Red would remain adamant that he was still the most attractive Irken in the whole of the universe even when he denied it and complained of swollen ankles or waterweight. The day had come several minutes before their daily call, Pem hanging laundry outside when Purple felt the first twinges in his back and managed to throw open the back door to yell fervently for his friend to start up his personal runner and fly him to the hospital as the pressure increased and Red tried incessantly to get through to him through transmission to no avail as the little Vortian panicked and sped through the streets of Hatalca when Purple adamantly screamed at him to move faster if he wanted to live. It had worked out in the end, Purple's sweat slicked, completely exhausted face finally gracing Red's screen as he panted in a daze with a bleary, tender smile stretched over his face at the astonished confusion blaring back as Red opened up a firestorm of frantic questions over his health and worried comments as to what happened, stopping short and freezing when Pem excitedly took the screen and showed off the first image of their gently crying daughter being tugged away from her protective eggshell and shocked awake by the careful hands of Hatalcan doctors.

Tears. Victory screams. Elated shouts of pure bliss as gloved hands pressed over eyes in disbelief when ecstatic, goofy smiles sliced through sobs. Teem clamored up against the camera when their tiny, squirming daughter was swaddled and passed carefully to Purple's eager, waiting arms, Kez screeched on an incessant loop from behind, and Lard Nar slapped his friend on the back when he choked out his cracked, blubbering emotion and tossed his beret behind him to race through the whole of the slumbering barracks and tell everyone he could find that he was a father.

He was a father.

It would be another full cycle before Red would meet the deep crimson eyes of his baby, to feel her antennae scenting against his skin and the dig of her tiny claws latching into his uniform. He had missed her once sightless eyes opening for the first time to observe the colorful, strange world around her, missed her first shaky crawl over the plush rug in their livingroom, and missed her try to stand herself up against his armchair in the corner of their bedroom where he had promised he would read her stories when he finally got home. Purple recovered slowly from the body-altering time he had spent carrying her, returning to work in the shop after six months as he entrusted Pem's now completely stable, medication tamed mind to babysit her during the day and returned home to find Nea gently rocking her to sleep.

It had been nice, but Purple was ready for his husband to return to his loving embrace, to hear the wordless voice of their DNA come together as one, and to speak her carefully-chosen name for the first time;

Zil.

Her name was Zil.

Little sixteen pound, overly curious, sugar eating Zil with a love of grabbing inquisitively at Pem's horns when he played peekaboo with her from her cheap crib and sucked on Purple's claws at night when he lulled her to sleep in his lonesome. No longer would she be without her father; they would finally be a family again.

Lard Nar, Teem, and Kez, had returned from the front a week in advance to practically hibernate after the muscle aching, brutal hand to hand combat they had all endured, but Red had opted to stay behind a bit longer, running rescue missions on the surface for missing Vortian, Inquisitorian, and Irken troops trapped beneath snow piles and freezing to death atop mountains. He had become a true, selfless hero, the face of shining Vortian compliance and resilience pasted against buildings on patriotic recruitment posters and over billboards as the example of gallantry and blinding valor for their cause. Purple saw his broken smile around every corner, brushing his fingertips along his lips as he carried his cooing smeet into work and set her up gently in his office on the days that Pem was called away for photoshoots and conferences, taking shifts with Len Tarf as they tag teamed ships and mopped oil free of their grimy floor.

But today…today Red was coming home.

He was coming home.

"Purple, take your gross kid." Teem rounded the corner holding Zil a few feet in front of her with a disgusted sneer smeared under her now emerald green eyes as a thin trail of drool lolled aimlessly down her niece's chin. "She's nasty and she literally just spit up on Kez's lap for the third time this week."

Purple reached out from where he had been watching anxiously out through the back window, scanning the skies for the first sign of his husband's new and improved, cherry red Vortian Stinger he'd painted as an anniversary gift a cycle ago, growing jumpy when the warm body of his squirming daughter was thrust back into his arms. Lard Nar was busy toiling in the kitchen, fixing exotic Vortian dishes with his husband as Nea played with sacks of flour at their feet in preparation for Red's much-anticipated, needed arrival. Kez had set to work folding his clothes dutifully on their bed to get him out of the disgusting uniform he had worn for the past year as he barked orders and wrestled his way nobly through the deep greens and flashing yellows of the Callnowian Nebula with thousands of devout soldiers at his side.

Every passing second was a cycle.

Every word said was a novel.

Every heartbeat was an earthquake.

Everyone spoke but Purple didn't listen, focused on the tiny claws smoothing up his arms and plucking soft fibers from his cardigan as he stared unblinkingly out of the window, counting every minute in succession and feeling his pulse lurch every time a ship flitted by overhead and taunted him with what could be.

"He'll be here. Don't worry." Kez called from the other room, somehow sensing the overbearing tension stabbing through Purple's nervous chest like a knife as he shifted uncomfortably on his bare feet against the warm tile. She poked around the corner and watched as his free hand twitched, itching desperately to wrap his fingers around his partner's and draw him back in to his hold to never let go again. "Honey, I know you're going a bit crazy waiting for him but he'll get here."

"I know…" Purple mumbled under his breath with a low sigh, drawing Zil up to his chest when she whined to be closer and feeling her stout, quivering antennae brush the underside of his chin. "I just haven't seen him in so long. I mean, I have, but I haven't _seen_ him." He swallowed edgily, bouncing Zil in his arms when she tried to reach up and smack him lightly in the side of the face. "I've waited a full cycle for him to come home and I don't wanna wait any longer. And Lard Nar?"

His brother spun on the stool he had perched himself upon, almost splattering Pem with the delicious creamy soup he had concocted as a comfort food for when his comrade returned back to them. "Please, you don't have to say it again." He groaned, plopping his ladle back into his rich cooking and rolling his eyes when Purple jutted out his bottom lip and laid into him for the fifth time that day alone.

"No. I wanna make sure you really understand me." He grumbled, reeling back his exasperation when Lard Nar flashed him an understanding smirk over his shoulder. "I don't want you sending him out there any time soon. I'm fine with planetary work, but nothing intergalactic for a while. He's already missed a cycle of Zil's life and I don't want him to miss anymore because of the wars you-"

Purple let his firm words die on his lips when the telltale sound of glass shuddering in panes ricocheted throughout their home, rattling their cookware in their cabinets as Zil scrunched up her face and began wailing at the intrusive noise she had only heard a few times before. He let his violet gaze snap back to the door, tears pricking in his vibrant eyes as he let loose a premature adrenaline-fueled scream of a laugh at the sight of the crimson, now war torn, pummeled hull of the Stinger he had generously painted descending between the full grown trees of their yard, knocking aside gooey black leaves and carelessly scraping against scarred trunks as the landing gear descended slowly from the belly of the gargantuan monster he had waited months to see. Purple didn't waste any time, fumbling with the security lock on the hatch before throwing it open and halfway sprinting across the short two acre expanse of gently fluttering grass, sobbing openly through his wide grin as he clutched his daughter to his chest and the plasma core hummed to a stop when the external lights of the ship peacefully dimmed.

Please.

Please.

Please.

The main compartment of the cockpit fazed open as Zil shreiked in agitated confusion against her father's heaving chest when he cried out again, not caring when the rest of their improvised family bounded out after him and the screech of Nea calling for her missed uncle resounded across the field when Red finally appeared at the top of the steps. He dropped his hefty bags to his feet when Purple yelled for his attention, waving his free hand in a wild display of frenzied loneliness melting away to nothing and evaporating to the swirling colors of the atmosphere as his husband's dumbfounded, exhausted expression shifted to a look of blissful, tear-filled joy at the unbelievably gorgeous sight of his now thin partner running as fast as he could to meet him and nearly tripping over the cobbles of their meager path as he cried. Red stumbled gawkily down the perforated metal steps, limping his way stiffly across the pathway and throwing his arms wide when Purple screamed out his excitement and slammed into his chest, immediately burying his face in his neck and audibly sobbing when Red took a deep, shuddering breath and let his carefully tamed emotions run free, pulling back and pressing a warm, desperate kiss to his husband's tear-streaked lips and frantically running his plasma burned, soot caked gloves up over his cheeks when he didn't feel close enough.

"I love you…I-I love you." Red whispered on a repeated loop against his partner's lips as Purple flew into a fit of giddy laughter, feeling every inch of tanned skin he could find and grazing his free claws up the sides of Red's scratchy uniform. "Fuck, I love you so much. I missed you every day and-"

"Vort, you're home! Y-You're finally home! I love you too, honey, I love you so much!" Purple cried happily, capturing his partner's lips again to ensure they were actually real when his hungry, starved affections took over once more and ate away at whatever rational judgement he'd maintained as he slept alone at night and watched his mate sleep over video call. "Please, Red, please stay. Stay with us."

"Shit, you really think I'd go anywhere after all this time? I'm on indefinite leave by my own orders." Red reached up and wiped away his own blisteringly cheerful tears on the back of his glove as he chuckled, shucking them to the ground when he realized what his husband had said before finally noticing the wriggling bundle sandwiched between them as wide cherry eyes stared silently up at the new face she had yet to be acquainted with.

Purple smiled warmly as he choked on another deep sob and moved back a few inches, carefully unhooking Zil's developing claws from his clothing and helping his stiff partner take her in his sore, achy arms to finally hold her for the first time since her birth. She flicked her antennae forward when he broke down once more, running his bare claws over her round, wind whipped cheek and trailing her bone structure as she craned to get closer to the familiar scent of her father's cologne Purple had repeatedly spritzed over his bedsheets before drifting off at night. Zil smiled on impulse, screeching happily when Red slung his free arm back around Purple's neck and pulled him in for another searing, untamed kiss he'd been waiting to taste for too long.

"She has your eyes, Red." Purple bit his lip with a giggle, reaching up to unfasten his husband's stiff tie as he reeled from the glorious beauty of their child bouncing in the crook of his arm and shielding her away from the chilly wind. "Say something to her. Let her hear your voice."

"Shit, she's so beautiful, Pur. S-She's so beautiful." Red sniffed, beaming uncontrollably when Zil's attention shot back to his at the sound of his now hoarse voice ringing out like a song through her parent's ecstatic, sunny reunion and continuous, feverish kisses brushing warm lips between shaky words and trailing hands.

"That's your Dad, Zil. He's the bravest, most handsome Irken I've ever met...and the biggest, nerdiest dork in the whole universe." Purple laughed with a tease, brushing up over her shivering antennae when another arctic wind ripped through the clearing. He reached up with a long, slow blink and pulled Red's beret free from his antennae, letting his own flutter forward to graze along his husband's sensitive stalks as he slung a protective, profoundly loving arm around his waist and turned them back to their patiently waiting family watching from afar. "Come on, honey, it's getting cold."

"We did good, Purple." Red breathed against his cheek, unable to peel his pride swelling, hazy eyes from the half toothed smile of the innocent life they had created together. He followed along through his exhaustion, leaning his weight against Purple's shoulder as he carried them back towards their forever home.

Purple nodded against his warm, familiar skin and gave himself over to the scent he had craved for so long, drowning in the beautiful, heavenly moment of his partner's gorgeously safe, infinitely tender hold. "Yeah…we did good."

Teem saluted her commander with a proud beam, nodding him on as he flashed her a look of genuine, unabridged friendship back. Lard Nar and Pem filed around them hand in hand and chattered excitedly for his attention as the scent of delicious, mouthwatering Vortian cooking invaded his senses and pulled him away from the chalky battle rations he'd been forced to endure as Kez and Nea prepared glassware on the delicately set table waiting for him to sit. Purple let go, gingerly pulling their daughter away with a heavenly smile as Pem plopped himself down next to Nea who banged excitedly against the table with polished shoes, giggling for her uncle to take a seat next to her and indulge in the delicious cooking Lard Nar had managed to prepare for them all. Teem smacked at the jumble of wires protruding from her PAK as her ocular implants flickered, pulling out a chair as her petite wife crossed her legs and deftly reached for her silverware, laughing when Purple struggled to set Zil up in her rickety high chair before also taking his designated place and glancing up to meet his partner's gaze from afar, beckoning him on like a siren to finally complete the cosmic, bizarre, utterly magnificent horde of displaced wierdos and former terrorists snickering at each other's jokes and forgetting that they were even different in the first place.

It started with the Florpus, a designated wrench thrown into their reality to set them onto the long, harrowing, but featherlight journey of love and acceptance they had all managed to endure together. Together…they were _all_ meant to be together.

"You're home now, honey. Don't just stand there like an idiot. Come eat." Purple called out over the clinking of silverware, nodding to the empty, once cold place at the table ready to accept its owner once more.

Red took a deep breath, tugging his ribbon bar free from his chest before leisurely unbuttoning his formal dress jacket, letting his gaze bounce between the absolutely stunning vison of perfect elegance he had decided to share his life with and start his long overdue, beautiful family with and the messy smeet shouting unintelligible Irken as she popped tiny morsels of sweet cream and homegrown vegetables into her mouth.

Home. Family. Love.

He slung his crisp jacket over the counter and bent down to unlace his boots, never once breaking eye contact with the infinitely rich violet beating back against him with more adoration than he had ever thought he would deserve. Finally, he wiggled free and kicked them aside, grinning back and taking his first step back towards his long awaited, beautiful forever.

**End**


End file.
